Contractual Obligations
by enchantedstarlight
Summary: Selling herself into a marriage contract, Ginny Weasley finds herself playing a dangerous game, ultimately pitting her husband against her lover, and a father against his son.
1. Chapter 1 Dire Consequences

A/N – Please note that this is story includes some rather mature themes. There is sexual and physical abuse mentioned. It is the total opposite of anything I've posted before. If you are under 17, please go away.

Chapter 1 – Consequences

It had been more than three years since Harry Potter had disappeared with Ron and Hermione. Three and a half very long years, since the Ministry had fallen and Voldemort had put a puppet government in place.

Voldemort called his conquest The New Regime.

Ginny Weasley called it hell.

After all, if it wasn't hell, she wouldn't be on her way to the Ministry right now to do the impossible on this bitter cold day in February. Only hell could be this cruel.

Unfortunately, she had no other option. Time was short and she was desperate. If she waited, three members of her family were going to die.

She suppressed a shudder as she thought about her twin brothers, Fred and George, along with her mother, and bit back her anger. The twins were directly responsible for the situation and, despite being furious with them for being caught, a part of her understood that it wasn't entirely their fault for wanting to do something rebellious. After all, three years was a long time to live under oppression and, during that time, it had been far from easy for the Weasley family. With each new law initiated by Voldemort's government, they'd only been able to watch as more and more of their freedom was taken away.

It was no wonder that her brothers had started pulling various pranks in an attempt to undermine the system. The twins were rebels first and foremost. It was in their nature to cause mischief, and the clever distractions they frequently created had managed to cause varying degrees of disruption and chaos for Voldemort's enforcers. Their actions had been a godsend to many over the past three difficult years. Single-handedly, the twins had kept morale up for many during the darker days. But, deep down, everyone knew that it would only be a matter of time before they were caught.

That fateful day came the previous afternoon, when the officials arrived at the Weasley brothers' joke shop to arrest the proprietors. They'd resisted, of course, and, worse, Molly Weasley had been there as well, helping with inventory. Her resistance to the inevitable arrest had only resulted in her being incarcerated as well.

One thing that was a certainty with Voldemort's government was the fact that open resistance against the New Regime was simply not tolerated. Sentences for even petty crimes were extremely harsh for anyone who was not a loyal follower of Voldemort. In the case of the Weasley brothers, it was a foregone conclusion that the sentence would be death, or a very close equivalent.

With those thoughts, Ginny strode purposefully toward her destination. If her plan failed, it was likely that the remaining members of her family would attempt a rescue that would be both futile and violent. It would only mean that more would die.

- x – X – x -

As Ginny entered the building that had once held the the old Ministry of Magic, memories of happier times flooded her memory, and she felt an old echo of excitement. She had visited the grand building often when she was a child, sometimes to accompany her father on an errand or, occasionally, with her mother to meet her father for lunch. Most of her memories of the place had been of happy times when her father's co-workers had always greeted her pleasantly, typically offering her sweets from their desktop jars.

Unfortunately, on this day, the fond feeling disappeared almost immediately once she was inside. Her father no longer worked there, and she was sorry to see that almost nothing about the place reminded her of her childhood visits. Instead, the building she entered that day could only be described as foreboding, as it was likely intended to be. There was no trace of the bustling, friendly atmosphere that once existed there.

In fact, during this particular visit, Ginny only felt only intimidation and hostility.

She received more than a few stares as she marched through the halls wearing her best cloak and her best business attire, although it was shabby when compared to the expensive, tailored garments worn by everyone she passed. Nevertheless, she held her head high and clutched the bag containing two law books and the precious piece of parchment that held her notes that would hopefully be the key to saving her brothers' lives.

Her destination was the Ministry of Justice, headed by none other than Mr. Lucius Malfoy, and she felt her throat become dry at the mere thought of meeting with the man. The name alone brought her nothing but foul memories, and the thought of meeting with him filled her with a dread that was only surpassed by the fear of seeing her mother and brothers executed.

She had nearly died once because of Lucius Malfoy, but that was only part of the reason for her trepidation. Since the war began, Malfoy had become one of the most prominent figures in the New Regime. His support of Voldemort was well-publicized and his actions had consistently proven his staunch loyalty. Malfoy was known to be cold, and there were substantial rumors that backed that claim, including the story that he'd directly taken part in his own wife's murder in the early days of Voldemort's rule.

Ginny suppressed a shudder at the thought of meeting him.

Swallowing her fear, she walked into the office that bore his name on the door and promptly received a cold welcome from the receptionist. That in itself was expected. In fact, Ginny would have been surprised if the greeting had been any different. The witch's response to Ginny's request to meet with the Minister was short and sharp. The witch simply stated to Ginny that Mr. Malfoy had not yet arrived.

Ignoring the witch's rudeness, Ginny politely asked for an appointment and was subsequently directed to sit and wait.

Finding a quiet spot in the corner, she settled into one of the obscenely expensive chairs, privately wondering if Malfoy had been expecting one of the Weasleys to make an attempt to plea for the lives of their family members. Knowing what she did of Malfoy, she also considered the idea that he anticipated such a meeting so that he would have the opportunity to laugh them out of his office.

She dismissed the thought quickly, realizing that it was unhelpful, and decided to distract herself by pulling out one of her books and once again look over the wording of the contract that she'd drafted.

The law book felt comfortable in her hands as she flipped through the pages, quickly finding the section that seemed most relevant, but it was difficult to concentrate in the unfamiliar room. Simply holding the book caused her thoughts to wander. It was actually Hermione's book, one of a number that her former schoolmate had left behind at the Burrow after she had disappeared with Harry and Ron on their mysterious quest to defeat Voldemort.

In the months after leaving Hogwarts, the combination of boredom and the politically charged society had caused Ginny to start reading the books, eventually causing her to become intrigued with the study of law. She was far from being a solicitor, and she was well aware of that fact. However, over the months, her informal study had given her a good familiarity about contracts. Little did she know at the time that she would be using her newfound knowledge in the way she now planned.

She could only pray that she'd learned enough to not muck this up.

Eventually, she settled into reading, making a few adjustments to her draft, and the time passed quickly. Finally, mid-morning, the annoyingly rude receptionist walked into the room to inform her that the Minister of Justice was willing to meet with her. She nodded politely, but silently scoffed at the title as she walked past the elaborate sign adorning the office wall.

As she entered the office, she briefly noticed that the décor was beyond extravagant. However, the distraction was only temporary. In the next instant, she became acutely aware of the imposing figure of Lucius Malfoy seated behind an enormous mahogany desk.

All her attention was quickly directed to the man as he stood and smiled maliciously at her in greeting. He was clearly expecting entertainment from this meeting and he mocked her presence by being falsely courteous as he extended his hand.

"Miss Weasley, it is indeed a pleasant surprise to see you here."

She hated him even more now that she was directly meeting with him. She silently cursed herself for her stiff and formal attempt at exchanging pleasantries with the man, but she couldn't afford to make him angry. She needed to stay calm and professional, or her proposal would go nowhere. Instead, she merely gave a stiff smile and ignored the urge to tell him what she really thought of him.

"I don't think it is all that much of a surprise Mr. Malfoy, considering recent events with my family."

"Of course, of course," he agreed with false pleasantness, indicating for her to be seated. Maintaining impeccable politeness, he waited for her to sit before he did. Looking at her expectantly, he leaned back casually in his leather chair and rested his elbows on the armrests, casually tapping his index fingers together thoughtfully in front of him.

"Nevertheless," he continued, "I would hardly expect that your father would send his young daughter here, alone, to discuss such serious matters. Not that there is anything to discuss. The case is quite closed."

She bit back her temper, reminding herself that it would do her no good to argue with this man.

"I'm sure nothing is ever entirely final," she said as smoothly as she could manage. "I'm sure there is always some room for negotiations."

Surprisingly, he smiled, and a mild look of surprise crossed his face. She took it as a small success on her part.

"Well said, Miss Weasley. But, unfortunately, for there to be negotiations, one needs something with which to negotiate. I'm afraid there's very little that your family might be able to offer the Dark Lord for restitution in this little mishap."

"You haven't heard my proposal yet."

The man's eyes lightened with evil mirth, and she realized that he was truly looking forward to crushing her plan, just as she'd expected. She tried to ignore the fear that gripped her in that moment. She wasn't going to allow it to stop her from trying.

"By all means, my dear. Do tell me what you plan to offer in exchange for this particular crime. Perhaps you have found another party that might be at fault?"

He was baiting her, and she refused to rise to it. She only had one potential argument and she had to hope that it was good enough. She went straight to the point. "No. I would like to argue that you are looking at executing three purebloods in a society that values bloodline above all else. Surely, there is some sort of a compromise that can be reached so that they can rejoin society."

He looked intrigued. That was good.

"Both of your brothers are married to pureblooded witches, are they not?"

"They are. And one of my sisters-in-law is currently expecting a child. You are well aware that Weasleys tend to have large families. Certainly, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would prefer that a pure bloodline be extended."

Lucius seemed to be honestly enjoying the discussion. "The Dark Lord would likely agree."

She breathed a sigh of almost relief. With this argument, she might have a small chance.

"However," he continued, "We cannot allow such miscreants to continue to wreak havoc on a gentle and well-ordered society. This is not likely the first time that your brothers have taken part in this sort of criminal activity, and my office has been given orders to make an example to prevent future mishaps. I'm afraid that their blood status alone cannot help them."

She took a deep breath. It was time for her to state her proposal. It was her last chance. His interest in the conversation thus far gave her the hope that her plan might work.

"What if I was able to provide some sort of insurance against them attempting such behavior again?" she asked, surprised at the cool, calm tone of her own voice.

The man laughed cruelly. "And how do you suggest we do that, little girl?"

She bit back her anger at his taunting question and tried to respond as calmly as possible. "I understand that there is a demand for pureblooded witches in the area of marriage contracts," she said, her voice shaking only slightly.

"There is," he confirmed, his brows rising in surprise.

Ginny knew this, and his answer confirmed the rumors. A number of Voldemort's most loyal followers had less than desirable blood backgrounds. They were looking to increase their status by marrying a pureblood and producing higher ranked children. She took a deep breath, summoning every shred of her courage to speak her next words.

"I would be willing to offer myself into such a contract, with a loyal follower of the government," she said, willing herself to remain calm as she spoke the words. She looked up and saw that his eyebrow was raised in apparent interest. She continued, "As a result of said contract, I would be in a position that would have influence over my family's actions."

She knew Malfoy would understand her politically correct wording. She was offering herself as a hostage. By being married to a Death Eater, she would be under close watch, thereby forcing her family to remain well-behaved. It was the only solution.

Lucius Malfoy smiled again and it was the most unnerving thing Ginny had ever seen.


	2. Chapter 2 Anything But a White Wedding

Chapter 2 – Anything But a White Wedding

She walked into the Muggle pub wearing her best dress, feeling both awkward and self-conscious. The garment had been purchased over a year ago and had since done nothing but hang in her closet, unused. When she'd purchased the item, she'd hoped that she would wear it to celebrate when Harry returned, but now she was certain that that particular scenario would never happen. This would likely be the first and last time she would be wearing it.

It was a nice dress, deep blue, that hugged her figure snugly. It wasn't overly revealing, although the neckline plunged a bit low for her usual tastes. Regardless, she thought she looked good in it, certainly attractive enough to catch a man's attention. At least, for tonight, she profoundly hoped that it would catch attention.

Nobody knew that she'd left the Burrow to come here on this cold Saturday night. She'd retired to her room shortly after dinner, claiming that she wasn't feeling well and that she wanted to be left alone. Between the glum mood in the householdA short hop out her window on her broom had brought her the short distance to the Muggle village outside of Ottery St. Catchpole. Strangely enough, she felt like it had been an adventure up until the moment that she'd actually entered the pub and removed her cloak.

Now, the thought of what she was planning to do weighed heavily on her mind. This night wasn't what she would have wanted but, just as when she walked into the Ministry the previous morning, she was determined to follow through with her scheme.

Going to the Muggle village was key to her plan. She didn't want to be recognized, and this quiet village was her best option. No one would know what she hoped to accomplish, except of course her future husband. It would likely anger him, and the idea of angering him made her lift her chin and stride more purposefully into the pub.

She scanned the patrons, noting that it was a younger crowd and there seemed to be plenty of men in groups, playing pool or darts or watching sporting events on the screens located throughout the dimly lit establishment. So far, her prospects seemed good, and she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves. Her confidence wavered almost immediately after releasing that same breath, leading her to decide that it was probably best to start her evening with a moderately strong drink.

The man behind the bar smiled appreciatively at her, causing her to once again feel uncertain. The low-cut neckline of her dress was definitely drawing the attention that she'd intended, but that kind of attention was unfamiliar to her. She downed her drink quickly and ordered another, taking it and turning to look around the room.

It didn't take long before a man approached the bar next to her, turning to strike up a conversation. She tried to seem interested, but his leer made her cringe. Fortunately, he respected her lack of interest and moved away after getting his drink.

The next hour or so proved to be just as unsuccessful. Several men approached, occasionally offering to buy her another drink, but each time, she found something about them that made her feel uncomfortable, causing her to withdraw from their advances. By the fifth drink, she was feeling wobbly in her high heels and still no better off than when she'd arrived.

Sighing in defeat, she began to consider leaving. She'd come to the conclusion that her plan was completely ludicrous. What she had been attempting to do was completely out of character for her.

As she finished the remaining drink, her thoughts began to drift. She would need to come up with a different plan, and she would need to do it quickly, because she only had a few more days until the wedding. She could not, and would not allow her future husband, a known Death Eater, to be the only man who would ever touch her.

She set the empty glass on the counter, staring at it as her mind gently buzzed in her intoxicated state. If anything, getting herself drunk seemed like a good way to console herself over her situation. She'd been a fool to come to this place. She'd been a fool for signing the contract. She felt water forming in her eyes and lazily watched as a single teardrop fell onto the polished wood of the bar. Embarrassed, she grabbed a napkin and wiped her cheeks, hoping to make a quick exit from her failed mission.

"Are you all right?" a gentle voice said next to her.

Startled, she looked up in the direction of the voice and saw a handsome young man. At least she thought he was handsome, she was having a bit of a difficult time seeing only one of him, as the amount of alcohol in her system had definitely affected her vision. His hair was a light brown, falling gently into his eyes, eyes that were slightly hidden behind glasses. His features were fine and aristocratic and he seemed slightly shy. Something about him seemed familiar, but she couldn't place him.

"I'm fine," she responded, looking at him shyly. She needed a bit of kindness right now, and simply hearing someone ask that question felt like balm on her aching heart.

"Pardon my intrusion," he replied, motioning toward the damp napkin in her hand, "But, normally, crying in your drink is a bit unusual for someone who's feeling 'fine'."

She gave him a small, sad smile. "I'm just having a bad night, is all. I came here to get my mind off a few things and I'm afraid it isn't working."

He leaned against the bar, looking at her with concern. "Maybe talking to someone would help?"

Shaking her head slowly, she turned her gaze back to her empty glass. "I'm afraid that no amount of talking about this problem is going to make it go away. I'm just trying to come to terms with my situation."

"You're not dying are you?" he asked, half jokingly.

She turned her head back to him, a small, more genuine smile lifting her lips slightly. "No, it's nothing like that. I'm just feeling a bit trapped right now."

"We all feel that way at some point, I suppose."

She gave a sad chuckle. He was trying to be sympathetic, but she was certain that he had no idea of the scale of her issue. She was effectively giving up her entire life and it seemed like a rather terrible topic to use to start a conversation, yet, it was what weighed on her, and there weren't many topics that she felt comfortable discussing with a Muggle. Yet, he made her feel better, and she wanted to keep talking to him, at least for a little while, to keep her mind off her own morose thoughts.

She decided to move the conversation to him.

"So, do you feel trapped as well?" she asked.

He smiled, seeming happy to answer. "I did, for a long time, but I'm working to change that right now."

He looked calm and confident and she was drawn to that. It was nice to see someone who seemed to have hope in his eyes. Deciding that she wanted to hear a positive story, if only so that she knew that it was possible for someone, she asked, "How so?"

He smiled, dropped his chin and looked up at her from under the soft fringe of hair that partially hid his bright blue eyes. His expression was so honest as he spoke. "I've got a new job, part time, and I'm putting some money away. I have a temporary place for now. With a little luck, I should be able to be independent of my parents soon and maybe someday have my own business."

His story was nice. She liked hearing that there were still people out there who could dream of making their own future. The Muggle world was a nice change from what she had been living with for so long. She wished she'd visited it sooner.

He bought her another drink, which she accepted, although she knew she had probably already imbibed more than enough. The alcohol had initially been intended to help her to loosen up and relax into conversation, but she felt that she didn't need help to relax around this man. Instead, she was quite afraid of sobering, lest she lose her nerve to follow through on her original plan.

They moved to a quiet table in the back and talked in generalities about many things, nothing in particular. Every time he tried to pry about her life, she changed the topic, as carefully as a drunk woman could manage.

He was kind, and she found herself wishing that she could get to know him better. The way he spoke of breaking away from the structured life he had been expected to live and moving on to a new town and new dreams captured her imagination.

These Muggles were quite amazing in their own way.

She thought of how wonderful it would be to leave behind everything and live as a Muggle. Their world was big enough to become effectively lost in if she wanted to. She wondered if she could survive without magic in her life, but it would be a small sacrifice compared to dealing with all her obligations.

Then, she remembered the aforementioned obligations. Her brothers would die if she didn't follow through with this ridiculous deal. Her heart started to break again, and her companion noticed her expression turn sad as she looked away from him. He took her hand.

The action surprised her a bit, but it wasn't unwelcome. She studied his hand as it held hers and decided that she liked his hands very much. They were strong and calloused, yet gentle. They were the hands of a simple working man. They told a lot about this person. She was having difficulty focusing, but somehow, the image of his hands burned in her mind.

"I'm sorry," she said. "You make me wish that I could just run away as well. It would be so much easier."

"Why don't you?" he asked.

She laughed, thinking he was being facetious, but his expression turned quite serious. "No, really. If you need work, I might be able to find you something at the estate I work at. They always need servants for something or other. I've even heard rumor that they might be looking for a nanny soon."

She smiled. What a wonderful dream, to run away with this handsome young man and never look back. Too bad she couldn't accept. She shook her head. "It's not that easy for me. I have people depending on me." Of course, they wouldn't know exactly how much until it was too late, but nevertheless, they needed her.

"There's always another option," he prodded gently.

"I wish I met someone like you sooner. Maybe I wouldn't be in such a mess," she said as she looked into his eyes. Her vision was even blurrier than before, due to all the drink, but she wanted to remember his eyes.

She didn't quite get the chance to look more closely, as he was leaning toward her and she instinctively found herself mirroring the movement to meet his kiss. His lips were soft and warm and he moved over her mouth in the same gentle manner that he seemed to exude when he spoke to her. The kiss seemed to erase the sorrow in her heart and she eagerly allowed it.

In the dark corner of the pub, they snogged for what seemed like forever, and during that time she clung to him almost desperately. For the moment, her entire world centered on this kind man and the dreams he was trying to encourage her to follow. She allowed herself to get lost in the fantasy of a future, possibly even with him.

She now regretted how drunk she was, because she wanted to remember every moment she spent with him and feared that her memory would be clouded. Her hands began moving through his hair and down the front of his shirt, wanting more of him.

"Maybe we should take this elsewhere," he finally suggested. She nodded in agreement, letting him pull her to her feet.

She walked with him unsteadily to the door. It suddenly occurred to her that there was no way that he could escort her home since it would involve revealing the fact that she was a witch, but then she remembered that going home was not her intention this evening. He didn't seem to notice her hesitation as he moved outside, holding her hand firmly. She found herself focusing on the feel of his hand on hers as they walked into the cold night air.

Once outside, he pulled her to him and kissed her again, and she felt herself once again becoming lost in his touch as his hands moved along her back, softly caressing her under her cloak through the thin fabric of her dress. He groaned as she pressed up against him.

"What are you looking for, love?" he asked, pulling away slightly, giving her space and opportunity to refuse him if she wished. His considerate action only solidified her decision. He was the right choice. She wanted this.

"I want to forget. I want to have a little while where I can look forward to a future where nothing is expected of me," she replied, wrapping her arms around him, hoping he wouldn't refuse her.

"Just for a bit, yeah?"

She nodded, fingering the soft material of his shirt. .

"I guess there are worse things than being used by a beautiful woman for my body," he joked. She smiled at that and nodded again, afraid that anything she might say would spoil this moment.

They walked a short distance from the pub, soon arriving at a small shop building. She allowed him to lead her up to a small set of rooms on the second floor.

Once inside, she snuggled in closer to him feeling more than a bit groggy from the drink, and enjoyed the the feeling of him holding her. His hand moved to caress her cheek. "Sleepy?" he asked.

She most certainly was, but she shook her head no, forcing herself to stay awake and concentrate on her mission.

The apartment was extremely small, just one room, containing a small kitchen area, a cushy chair and the bed. After he kissed her again, it didn't take long for them to both move toward the bed.

He undid the clasp on her cloak, and she vaguely recalled him chuckling at the unusual garment as he carefully laid it on the chair along with her handbag. She watched his silouette in the light as he moved back toward her, and she wondered if he brought many women back to this little room. His arms wrapped around her again, making her feel safe and warm, and she dismissed the thought as inconsequential. It didn't matter because tonight he was hers and that was all she needed.

Curious, she became a little more bold, and ran her fingers along the soft material of his shirt, eventually finding her way underneath the garment. She could just make out the ghost of his smile in the dim light as she lifted the shirt off of him. He complied willingly, helping her unzip the back of her dress, and she felt a small shiver, part from excitement and part from the chill of the room as the material slid softly down her body and pooled around her ankles.

His eyes flickered with a silvery sparkle as he took in her form. She swallowed nervously, unsure of herself. She was inexperienced, but she understood the basics of what she needed to do from years of romance novels and girl talk.

She gave a small shiver as she stood before him, nervous and just a bit cold. He took that as a reason to embrace her again, covering her neck with kisses that were hungry, yet tender. She shivered again, this time with excitement as he hit a particularly sensitive spot behind her ear. His hands ran along her skin, unexpectedly thrilling her with a passion that she didn't know she could feel. The alcohol gave her a boost of courage, and the soft, tender touches that the handsome young man gave seemed to guide the rest.

When his fingers released the catch on her bra, she tensed with a brief moment of hesitation, although not from regret. It was almost too easy to do this, and she felt a moment of guilt that she should feel so willing to be with a total stranger in this intimate way. She stepped back, and he took it as permission to pull the item off her body. He dropped his head, eagerly feasting on her exposed nipples, calling her beautiful, and she once again lost herself to the lustful fantasy that was consuming her.

She willingly complied with every touch and caress, easily getting lost in every kiss. She found herself to be in love with him, at least for this night. If things were different, she would have probably wanted to see him again, Muggle or not. For the time she was with him, she could have hope for the future, and she would always be grateful to him for that small reprieve.

It wasn't long before she found herself naked underneath him and she tried to drunkenly focus on his face as he silently asked her permission to enter her. His considerate request, even after all they'd done, was almost sweet. She responded by kissing him, willing the act to be completed. As he began lowering himself into her, he suddenly stopped.

He looked at her, surprised. "Ginny, you didn't tell me..."

The question bothered her, she didn't recall telling him her name, but shoved the thought aside. "Tell you what?"

"That you've never done this before."

"Does it matter?"

He shook his head. "No. But, are you sure?" She sensed hesitation from him. She felt a moment of panic, that maybe he might not want to do this anymore.

"I'm sure. Please..." she begged. And with that, he finished the act.

He fell asleep shortly after, still holding her and she treasured the feeling of warmth and safety while lying in his arms. She desperately wanted to join him in slumber, but she was afraid that if she stayed any longer, she'd be tempted to take him up on his offer of a job and maybe a new life as a Muggle. Besides, she was sobering, and the resulting clarity made her realize that she needed to return home before she was missed.

The darkness hid him in shadow, so she couldn't study his features more closely. Instead, she ran her fingers along the side of his face and gave him a soft kiss before slipping out of the bed. Dressing as quietly as possible, she left the room, her heart heavy at the thought of never seeing him again.

Her last week of freedom passed far too quickly.

She woke up late on the morning after her tryst, nursing a hangover and worrying that everyone who spoke to her would somehow know what she'd done. She found herself to be almost grateful for the hangover, as it helped with her cover story that she hadn't been feeling well, and it distracted her from the pain she felt elsewhere in her body. She spend much of the day casting worried glances as her father and brothers moped about the house, but nobody noticed anything different about her. The lack of her mother's warm presence had affected them all, so any odd behavior on her part was only another aspect of the somber mood within the house.

As the days passed, she found herself divided between her own melancholy and convincing her father to remain calm. Arthur Weasley had begun to plan something, she was sure, and the last thing she needed was for him to act irrationally and ruin her plan or, worse, get himself killed.

Fortunately, the family was so preoccupied with their own worries that nobody paid much notice of her when she slipped out on Tuesday morning, on the pretense of checking up on the joke shop in order to go to Diagon Alley for her dress fitting.

She soon found that, true to his word, an account had been established by Lucius for her new wardrobe. It was a disturbing thought in many ways. First, that she'd never in her life imagined that she'd simply walk into the most exclusive dressmaker's shop in Diagon Alley for any reason, and second, that it was the first proof that her plan might truly become reality.

The shopkeepers had been instructed to take her measurements and provide a variety of current styles, all to be delivered to her new residence by Friday. Only one garment was to be of her own choosing, and that would be the dress she would wear on Friday at her wedding.

She looked through the lovely dresses, staring longingly at the wedding gown section. She would not be wearing one of those. It was sad, but she would never be able to have the beautiful, happy wedding day that she'd always imagined. She felt tears well up in her eyes and blinked them back, willing herself not to cry.

i_Oh, Harry, where are you? /i, _she thought miserably.

After all this time, she didn't expect Harry to come back and sweep her into marriage. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to marry him if he did return for her. However, she desperately hoped that sometime in the next few days he would return from his mysterious quest with Ron and Hermione, defeat Voldemort and free her from this horrible plan. Unrealistic, certainly, but she couldn't help but allow herself the luxury of a good daydream.

Pushing aside thoughts of gowns she'd never wear, she turned to the formal robes and selected a cream colored business robe. It looked prim and proper, and it wasn't white. She felt she didn't even deserve that much at this point.

On Wednesday morning, she and her father visited Fred, George and her mother at the Ministry. Their conversation sounded much like they were saying their last words to each other, as they shared stories, happy memories, and such. Little did her mother know that Ginny was the one saying goodbye, not the other way around.

Then, on Wednesday afternoon, her father received the owl informing him that the twins and her mother would be released on Friday. She joyfully hugged him. Fred's wife Angelina was expecting their first child, and now, she knew that they would be together as a family. Her mother would be home to see her new grandchild.

Watching her father's reaction to the news strengthened her resolve. Trading her freedom for their lives was more than worthwhile. It was a shame that their celebration would turn bitter when they received news of her fate.

And then, far too quickly, Thursday evening was upon her.

Ginny lay awake in her bed, unable and unwilling to sleep. Her mind was filled with thoughts, worries, and the intense desire to remember every last detail of her room, her home and her family. After tomorrow, it was likely that she might never return to the Burrow ever again.

Tomorrow, she would leave, bound by contract to be married in the early afternoon. She hadn't expected her servitude to begin quite so quickly, but Lucius Malfoy had been a hard man to bargain with.

She looked around her little room, taking in every detail and carefully putting it to memory. Every old, tattered item was cherished. She thought of shopping with her mother for every piece of clothing. She looked longingly at the old Quidditch pads that had been worn by each of her brothers before her. Toys, handmade Christmas gifts, and Hermione's books, including the ones on Wizarding Law, filled every corner, and each held a loving memory.

It was that very collection of books that had enabled Ginny to feel confident enough to march into Lucius Malfoy's office to propose her plan. She was sure that, if Hermione had any clue what the books were to be used for, she might have burned them rather than leave them here.

Then, she started recounting that fateful visit to Malfoy's office, fretting over the details of the contract and hoping that there was nothing that she'd overlooked.

Lucius Malfoy had agreed to her business proposal relatively quickly. It hadn't surprised her, as there truly did seem to be a demand for pureblooded wives. With many families looking to ensure their future in a society ruled by Voldemort, pureblood status had become an extremely desirable trait. Ginny had even heard stories of less reputable families who had gone so far as to sell betrothal contracts for witches far younger than she.

No, she hadn't been the least bit surprised when he'd agreed. What surprised her had been negotiating the wizard to whom she would be bound in marriage. Actually, his suggestion had been an outright shock. She had expected the person to be some ambitious lower-ranked Death Eater. At the very least, she expected someone who was closer to her own age.

She'd initially balked when Lucius had listed the name of her betrothed. The thought of marrying some nameless goon had been far less intimidating than the thought of marrying someone she knew. She'd been particularly shocked that he was looking to remarry, considering that his wife had died, or most likely been murdered, just over a year ago.

The idea of marrying him had nearly crumbled her resolve.

Then she realized she'd likely have suffered this reaction regardless of who was chosen. As she continued to negotiate the details of the contract she felt oddly detatched state and soon convinced herself that the shock was only in discovering the details of her fate.

As they drew up the contract, he was surprisingly cool and business-like. There were only a few items that were non-negotiable from her standpoint, specifically the points regarding the release and safety of her family. Other things were bartered away with no small amount of pain. After all, Malfoy was the one who held the stronger bargaining position.

The worst concessions were that she could not leave the grounds of her new home, nor could she floo or send owl posts without her husband's consent. His reasoning was, unfortunately, logical. He felt that there were secrets that she might learn while living with him, and he did not want her to convey any sensitive information to known insurgents. She had no choice but to agree.

Then came the embarrassing personal questions, such as, could she bear children? Yes. Was she still a virgin? Yes.

He actually had the gall to cast spells to verify her answers.

With that, they each signed and placed a drop of blood to magically seal the contract. She had one week to finalize her personal affairs and the wedding would take place the next Friday afternoon.

Now, with the hour of her marriage set for less than twelve hours away, she abandoned the idea of sleep and got out of bed, accepting the fact that her world was going radically change forever very, very soon. Her emotions were on edge and she found herself to be nervous, frightened, and oddly curious. She knew that she wouldn't be getting any sleep. It was better to use her remaining hours to take in her home as best she could and hope that, one day, she might be able to return.

She found a bag under her bed and packed the few items that she would bring with her to her new life: a necklace her father had given on her sixteenth birthday, her mother's hairbrush, a family photograph, and Ron's chess set.

The chess set was not so much for the sentimental value, but for the fact that she'd hidden vials of contraceptive potion inside the hollowed pieces that should last for the next six months. Her new "fiance" wanted more Death Eater children, and she fully intended to do her best to put that off as long as possible.

She then wandered the house in the quiet, dark night and hoped that her family would understand her actions. She hoped they would forgive her.

As she padded across the living room, memorizing every beloved detail, her gaze fell on the magical clock. With relief, she saw that her mother's and brothers' hands had moved from "mortal peril" to simply "in danger". She wondered where her hand on the magical clock would point once she was gone. Would it say "traveling", "out", or perhaps even "home"?

The hours passed too quickly as she thought about everything and everyone in her life, and before she was fully prepared for the hour to arrive, the first rays of morning light began to brighten the living room. Her final day had finally arrived and, then, for the first time since she conceived of this mad plan, she cried.

She managed to get an hour or so of sleep on the couch after her sobs subsided, but it was only due to exhaustion. Slipping out before the others were awake, she tried not to think of the fact that this would be her last time leaving this house, and that her goodnight wish to each of them last evening was her final goodbye.

She carefully placed her goodbye note on her bed, where it would be found later. Then, with tears running down her cheeks, she walked out of her childhood home for the last time. Turning to look at the house, she tried to imprint every last detail in her mind. Then, taking a deep breath, she drew on her courage and Apparated to the dress shop to prepare for her wedding.

By the time she reached the Ministry at mid-day, her eyes were dry. Her hair, makeup and attire had meticulously transformed her into a different person, giving her strength to accept her new role. Deciding that she would have time to mourn the loss of her old life later, she marched bravely to Lucius Malfoy's office.

He met her formally at the door. "Right on time, Miss Weasley. I'm assuming it is with the intention of following through with our bargain?"

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy," she said in her most business-like tone, feeling that the formality helped keep her nerves in check. "Before we begin, however, I'd like to make certain that all the charges have been dropped."

"As we speak, your brothers and mother are free to go," he replid, smiling with a false graciousness. "It appears that there is now a lack of evidence against them, although your brothers will remain under probation for several lesser acts of malicious mischief."

She felt cold and responded accordingly. "That wasn't part of the contract."

"No, Miss Weasley. While I must admit that your contract was quite sound, you failed to detail all the charges that were brought against them. You only detailed the ones that warranted the Death sentence. Your brothers have a long-standing history of causing trouble. It is in everyone's best interest that they remain under some supervision to ensure that they don't end up in the same dire situation again."

She seethed in anger. He was altering the bargain, just enough to make it distasteful.

"May I verify that they are free?" she asked coldly.

He presented the parchment that called for their immediate release, dropping all major charges. She looked the document over carefully, making sure that there were no further surprises. Once satisfied, she gave him a cold nod.

"Would you like to see them?" he asked, still remaining formal.

She nodded again, trying not to look too eager, afraid that if she appeared to be too happy about any part of the agreement, it might shatter before it could be completed. Together they walked down the corridor to overlook the main foyer.

When she saw them as they were brought out of the lift, she had to repress the urge to call out and wave. She smiled as the guards released them at the front desk, handing each their wand. They turned to each other in disbelief and Ginny felt her heart lift with joy as they wrapped each other in relieved hugs, quickly moving to the exit, unencumbered.

One by one they stepped into the Floo to return home, and as the last one disappeared, Ginny felt a relieved sigh escape from her lips.

"Are you satisfied?" he asked.

"I am," she replied.

"You realize that they could easily be arrested again if you fail to complete your part of the contract."

"I gave you my word. I have no intention of trying to cheat my way out of this."

"Very well, Ginevra, shall we go?" he said, offering his arm for her to take.

She hooked her hand into the crook of his elbow, and walked with him stiffly and formally to the third floor, Office of Marital Affairs and Bonding.

The ceremony was abrupt and appropriately business-like. She said the words, but felt no emotion. Only a few minutes after that, she officially became Mrs. Lucius Malfoy. The entire process felt surreal.


	3. Chapter 3 Newlywed

A/N – for those of you who hated me for the last chapter, you'll hate me even more for this one. Really. If you are ick'd out by Ginny/Lucius interaction or by insinuation of sexual violence, I suggest skipping the the latter part of the chapter after the dinner scene where Draco leaves ( in other words, stop reading after the OoOoOo).

Chapter 3 - Newlywed

An hour after the marriage ceremony, she walked into the mansion for the first time as Mrs. Lucius Malfoy. The home was intimidating to say the least, but she held her chin high as she entered. She was now the lady of the manor and intended to keep her word, as specified in the contract, to uphold that title as best she could.

Most of the afternoon was spent on a tour of the main rooms on the ground floor. Lucius focused on giving her family history, which seemed incredibly important to him. He also mentioned several areas that contained various dangerous wards or artifacts that she should avoid, including Lucius's private potions laboratory and storage areas. And finally, he motioned toward the grand staircase, mentioning lecherously that she would become acquainted with their rooms upstairs soon enough. She was in no hurry to tour that area yet.

When they finished, he summoned the elves that it was time to serve dinner and added one unexpected command. "Inform young Master Draco that I would like him to join us for our meal."

The house elf bowed deeply and departed and Ginny realized that she was even less enthusiastic about being in the house than she had been earlier, if that was possible. Somehow, during the past week of preparing for her new life, she hadn't even considered the idea of how she'd confront Harry's and her brother's old school adversary. Somehow, being in the same house of one of her former school mates, even if he was one that she didn't like and had rarely interaction with, seemed strange.

They moved to the dining room, her husband indicating that she take the seat to his immediate right. She couldn't help but note the smugness in his demeanor. He obviously was eagerly anticipating his son's reaction.

As Draco entered the room, she had to admit that the look of shock on his face was somewhat interesting. He stared at Ginny as if she was a recently resurrected ghost. All color left his face and his jaw seemed to drop open slightly for a moment. Lucius was obviously pleased.

"Come in, my son," he said, his voice dripping of sarcasm at the endearment.

Apparently, she thought, there was indeed something to the rumors that there was some sort of rift between this father and son.

"Father," he acknowledged mechanically, making an almost obvious attempt to avoid looking at her.

Lucius stood, directing his hand toward Ginny. "I don't know if you are acquainted with Ginevra."

Draco seemed to be struggling to keep his expression under control as he managed to calmly respond. He looked over at her, his expression troubled, a deep frown etching his face. "I can recognize that she's a Weasley," he said. She couldn't help but notice that his voice held a hint of shakiness, and she assumed it was with anger or contempt.

"You will not address her as such. She is now my wife and I expect you to address her with the appropriate respect as is demanded of her position."

Draco's expression paled even further upon hearing those words and for the first time, the younger man looked at the girl sharply, his mouth dropping open slightly in shock. She watched his expression carefully, noticing that there was suspicion, anger, and a hint of betrayal which she assumed had something to do with her taking the place of his mother in the household, and she almost felt sorry for him in that moment.

Then, Ginny heard Lucius openly chuckle at the younger man's reaction. She said nothing, allowing the exchange between the two to play out, although she found herself glancing quickly between them in an attempt to decipher something of their relationship. All she could deduce was that it was, at best, strained.

The dinner was a quiet affair after that. Father and son appeared to have no desire to speak, and she had no desire to initiate conversation with either of them. She received only cold looks from Draco and Lucius continued to smile icily each time he noticed his son's angry glare.

At the conclusion of the meal, Draco rose and moved to leave the room in a stiff, formal manner.

"I'll be taking a leave of you now, Father, Ginevra," he said with a forced, polite bow to her.

"Hmmph," Lucius responded, making a sound that could only be interpreted as open disgust. "I suppose you are once again leaving for the weekend?"

Draco, apparently over his initial shock, showed little emotion to his father's taunt and responded in a rather bored tone. "Yes, Father. I have business that needs my attention."

"Business, is that what you call it?" his father said, sneering, clearly trying to press for further reaction from his son.

"I'll return on Monday morning," was all the son said, not rising to his father's insinuated insult.

Lucius's eyes narrowed in anger. "When you return on Monday, I expect you to make yourself useful. You will assist Ginevra in becoming acquainted with the Manor's operation while I am otherwise occupied at the Ministry."

"Of course, Father," he said coldly, as he turned and departed. Ginny was struck by his dramatic air as his cape swirled behind him as he turned. He made her think of a dark, angry angel.

- x – X – x -

The couple completed their dinner in relative silence, Ginny pretending not to see her husband glower, remaining obviously angry long after his son had left. Somehow, she had little doubt that her presence had any effect on the normal interaction between the pair.

Unfortunately, to her great dismay, the meal finally did end and, almost immediately after, Lucius led her up the grand staircase and into the east wing of the mansion. They spoke little, although his mood seemed to change with disturbing alacrity as soon as they left the dining room.

She felt herself becoming more and more frightened with each step as she moved closer to the master suite of rooms and no amount of self-control could help keep her hands from visibly shaking. A coldness seemed to engulf her entire body. Yet, she forced herself to continue moving forward.

He opened the door to the master suite with exaggerated grace, a cold smirk lighting his face as he invited her in. She stiffly crossed the threshold to the room still holding her chin high. By almost all accounts, she was a prisoner more than a wife, but she had made up her mind that, no matter what, she would not cower before him.

They entered a room that was best described as a small seating area, one wall overlooking the grounds and the other containing a small row of bookshelves. The décor was surprisingly warm and inviting.

"The furnishings are my first wife's doing," he explained, probably noting her reaction. "I've not found the time nor desire to change it since her passing. You may do with it as you see fit. Just make certain that the timing of any redecoration does not inconvenience me."

He motioned to two doors on the far side of the room, "The chamber on the left is my bedroom, the other is yours. There is no need for us to sleep in the same bed, as I prefer my privacy."

The relieved breath she let out was almost audible, causing him to laugh at her reaction. "Never fear, my dear, I fully intend for us to spend plenty of time in the same bed." She swallowed nervously, despite the fact that her throat was now bone dry, making her regret that she hadn't consumed more wine at dinner.

"Come now, our wedding night awaits us," he said, his voice surprisingly smooth as he extended his hand out invitingly. She took it slowly and he led her into his room. Again, she was taken aback by the lavish furnishings and warm tones of the fabrics and furnishings.

The room held more windows than the sitting room and a balcony was visible behind the heavy drapes that decorated the windows. A bathroom adjoined the wall near the bed, and across from that she recognized the entrance to a large wardrobe. The wall to the right held a large fireplace, and a door that led to her bedroom.

Again, he led her into the next room, her room. She was grateful that she would have a place to call her own, and she let out a small gasp as she entered it. The room was quite stunning. As much as Lucius's room was dark, this one was bright and airy. Bright blue walls contrasted the smooth white of the trim. Elegant trim and molding highlighted the walls and door frames. The flooring was a geometric pattern in deep gray and silver, covered in thick area rugs. It reminded her of a palace.

"Again, you have my former wife to thank for the design of this room and you are welcome to arrange or change whatever you wish." She nodded dumbly. She had no desire to change anything for the time-being.

"Was your wife..." she started to stammer. Part of her wanted to ask if the woman was happy here, but she regretted the question before it even left her lips.

"We will not speak of my first wife. She is none of your concern," he cut her off sharply. "But for now," he continued, "we have unfinished business which requires attention." He motioned to the bathroom door. "You may wish to freshen up and I will join you shortly."

She nodded and walked to the bathroom. The bath had already been drawn and the scent of luxurious bath oils filled the room. A silk nightdress and matching dressing gown had been laid out for her and it brought to mind why she was there, causing another involuntary shudder to pass over her. She tried to put aside the feeling of dread and proceeded to undress, and slip into the hot water, trying to enjoy what she could.

Washing quickly, even the heat of the water failed to take away the chill that had engulfed her. She tried to use the time in the warm water to focus and calm herself. She was really here. This was really happening. Part of her wanted to get the night over with as quickly as possible while the other part wanted to put it off until the last possible second.

In the end, the decision was made for her when she found a house elf standing by the tub, urging her to get out as it held a warm, fluffy towel toward her. She dried and dressed quickly into the ivory colored nightdress. It was quite a lovely creation, something she'd never imagined owning or wearing. The back was open, loosely held on by a crossed tie, thin straps held the slip of material on her shoulders. Taking a deep, brave breath, she loosened her hair and slipped into the dressing gown, then, summoning every last ounce of courage that she had, she walked back into the bedroom.

He was standing there, at the doorway to his room, waiting for her. She wondered if he was waiting long but nothing in his stance gave any indication of impatience. He was a handsome man, she couldn't deny that, and there was no denying that there was passion and lust in his eyes as he moved to approach her. Perhaps her marital duties wouldn't be so horrible, she tried to convince herself. He once again held his hand out and waited for her to take it.

"Tonight, we'll share my bed," was all he said as he led her back into his room.

OoOoOoOo

They didn't speak after that. She really had nothing to say to this man. She hated him. With every last fiber of her being, she hated him, yet she was now here as his wife, and her mind seemed to shut down as she lifted her mouth to accept his passionate kiss.

She tried to get lost in that. Her hatred of him let her forget her fear, led her to match his movements as he divested her of her dressing gown. As he stepped back to view her in the thin nightdress, she stood her ground, almost daring him. He gave an evil smile as he took her dare, and moved to caress her through the smooth fabric.

He lifted her easily and deposited her on the bed and at that moment, she understood that their interaction was going to be about power and control. He wanted to make it known that he now owned her and she wondered if there was going to be any way that she would be able to stand up to him in such a battle. In the end, she knew she couldn't. He held all the power in almost every imaginable way: physically, financially, politically. If she defied him, he could take it out on her family at any time.

Her thoughts drifted back to the previous weekend as she remembered how different it had been with her Muggle lover. How considerate he had been. She clung to the memory as Lucius removed her gown and harshly groped her, his kisses hard and unyielding. She still tried to match him but it wasn't possible. He was larger, heavier, and much stronger than she.

Finally, he hovered over her and took her as his prize. As soon as he entered, he stopped, fury showing plainly on his features.

"You were untouched. The spells don't lie about that," he accused her.

"No," she bit back harshly, "the spell didn't lie. It was true."

"But you are no longer."

"I never promised that I'd take my virginity to your bed. You weren't specific about that part of the bargain."

He snarled viciously at her. "You were supposed to be **mine**!"

His anger and demeanor told her that she'd done the right thing by sleeping with her Muggle. She now new for certain that he had planned to use her virginity against her.

In her study of marriage contracts and binding, she'd found one particular thing that had troubled her, and that was the ancient, dark magic of taking her virginity to bind her to him with an unbreakable fidelity charm. She had been right to assume that he'd wanted to perform the ritual and she'd successfully thwarted his plans. She'd achieved a small victory by giving herself to the soft-spoken Muggle.

"You were going to use the binding, weren't you!" she accused.

Her accusation infuriated her husband.

"Traitorous bitch!" he snarled and moved back to raise his hand, striking her hard across her left cheek. She felt the pain as a momentary blackness filled her vision, then noticed the slight taste of blood in her mouth. She didn't care. He continued his work to finish her, taking her distraction to pound into her body harshly, and she could could do nothing but close her eyes and allow him.

After he finished, he moved off of her. She didn't look at him, ashamed and disgusted with herself for willingly being with him. Thinking that it was over, she moved to get out of the bed, but he stopped her, grabbing her arm tightly. She flinched, but said nothing, thinking that that she'd likely be bruised there in the morning as well.

She looked down at his hand on her arm, still not willing herself to look at him again, knowing her disgust would show in her expression. "I thought you said that I could sleep in my own room," she said somewhat haughtily.

"You'll go when I'm finished with you, not before."

His tone sparked her temper. While she understood that his anger might be somewhat justified, he had already bent some of the intention of the agreement by failing to drop the lesser charges against her brothers, and, now, she was quite certain that he intended to use binding and magic that had not been part of the original agreement.

She turned to him and spoke accusingly. "Did you honestly think that I would have allowed you to bind me to you? I won't be under your control like that. It was not part of our agreement. Fortunately, I knew better than to trust you." The ritual would have left her helpless in many ways. A blood binding was far more restrictive than a simple bonding spell. It would have made her effectively under his control and would have been magically bound from doing anything that he didn't specifically allow. She would have felt like his slave. There was a reason it was forbidden as Dark Magic. As it was, the magic of the contract was more than restrictive, as far as she was concerned.

"Who did this to you? I want his name," Lucius demanded, his voice deep and threatening.

She saw a mad fury in his eyes. In that moment, she came to realize that she'd saved the poor Muggle bloke's life by the simple act of never having asked him his name. If Lucius discovered his identity, she had no doubt her lover would be a dead man. Even under Veritiserum or Legilimency, he'd remain safely anonymous because she honestly didn't know. "I never got his name. He was just some bloke I met in a pub."

He roared in anger, and hit her across the face again. This time, she felt her lip split from the impact.

The rest of the evening passed slowly and painfully for Ginny. He took her, forcefully, twice more, but a good part of her didn't care. She was still grateful for her small victory and she focused on that.

- x – X – x -

He allowed her to sleep late the next morning. She was grateful, in whatever small way she could be. She hurt. The pain in her body was far worse than it had been the previous weekend. There was much to be said for having sex with someone who was gentle and considerate. Losing her innocence had been nothing compared to the brutal initiation she'd experienced at the hands of her husband.

Granted, his anger had some justification, as she had willfully and deliberately deceived him, but her hatred of the man had only increased as a result of his treatment of her.

When she finally awoke, she immediately went to draw herself a hot bath and try to reduce the aches in her body.

As she moved back into the bedroom, she saw that her dress for the day had already been chosen and laid out for her. She found that to be the slightest bit annoying, but dressed and fixed her appearance carefully, using her wand to minimize the bruising on her face, but not removing it completely because she wanted go give Lucius a reminder of what he'd done to her. When she arrived downstairs in time for lunch, she found her 'husband' waiting for her.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked casually, the smallest hint of malice in his eyes.

She carefully elected not to rise to the bait. "As well as can be expected, I suppose."

He only smiled in reply. She hated his smile.

"I hope you are feeling rested enough to go out this afternoon."

"Of course," she replied. She didn't want to go out. In actuality, she felt like hell, but she refused to show any sign of weakness.

"Excellent. The Notts have decided to throw a celebration in honor of our union. I am looking forward to introducing you to my peers."

Death Eaters. He meant Death Eaters. He was going to flaunt his conquest of the Weasley family by boasting about their marriage. She felt a tightening in her chest.

"I suppose that it will be a formal type of gathering?"

"Of course."

Fortunately, the bulk of her new wardrobe had been delivered. She assumed appropriate formal wear was included in the order. She had yet to look at the clothing that was in her closet and found herself at least a little curious about the selections.

After lunch, she returned to her room to find an appropriate outfit once again laid out for her. Apparently, choosing her own wardrobe was not an option. Somehow, losing that small freedom was worse than anything else, even losing correspondence with her family. She dressed, feeling miserable. Her personal house elf then arrived to do her hair and makeup.

The dinner at the Notts' mansion was dreadful. She smiled politely and falsely as she met the leering gaze of each Death Eater. Meeting their wives was not much better, although at least one or two seemed sympathetic, none offered her any kind word or support in any way. The lot of them disgusted her, and she didn't even have the luxury of telling them what she thought of them.

She wondered if that might change someday, and she might be able to speak her own mind. Lifting her chin, she stubbornly decided that she would bide her time as she smiled politely to each and every one of them.

The couple arrived back at the Manor late and she was grateful that Lucius left her to her own room for the night, allowing her the chance to recover from her first night with him. Her disgust at having to socially interact with Lucius' peers had been distasteful, at best. In any case, she realized that she still had a great deal to process in order to adjust to her new life.

- x – X – x -

Sunday, their brunch was quiet and formal. She didn't mind when her husband was silent. In fact, she preferred interacting with him as little as possible. It was easier being in the same room with him if they behaved as strangers.

After the meal, he brought her to his private study.

He seated himself in a large leather chair in front of the fireplace, and motioned for her to take a seat on the footstool in front of him. She did, albeit timidly.

"I wish to speak with you, Ginevra," he said, almost too patiently.

She nodded.

"You did well, last evening."

He'd given her a compliment, but somehow his tone did not match his words. She responded with uncertanty. "Thank you, I suppose."

"I expect you to maintain proper conduct as my wife," he continued, as if lecturing her.

"That was part of our agreement. I have no intention of embarrassing you in front of your friends. There's nothing to gain from that."

"But you already have, my dear," he said.

She felt stunned. She didn't recall anything during the reception that might have been a glaring faux pas. "I don't understand, Lucius."

His features remained passive, but his voice suddenly turned cold. "Fortunately, it is not yet public knowledge that you are a whore."

The words shocked her and a flash of temper made her retort sharply. "I am most certainly _**not**_ a whore!"

His gaze narrowed, and she caught a glimpse of anger. "As we both determined on our wedding night, you most certainly are. I am very well within my rights to terminate our contract based on your lie."

Fear shook through her. If he terminated the contract and ended the marriage, she had no way of warning her family to run and hide before Lucius sent the Ministry's Death Eater-based police force to capture them. Regardless of how distasteful she found the marriage to be, she needed to do her best to make it work.

"You can't do that. I didn't break the terms of the contract!" she said, trying to hide her desperation.

"A technicality, and we both know that," he replied, remaining cold and impassive.

At that moment, she realized that he was toying with her, and that he was enjoying her distress. The realization sparked her anger. He held all the power, contract or not and he had been more than willing to alter the details of the contract if it was in his own favor. Her hands balled into fists.

"And you were going to use the Dark ritual to bind me, and we both know that, as well," she snarled at him accusingly.

A small smile then lifted the corners of his mouth, as if her reaction amused him. "You are a clever little witch, aren't you," he stated, failing to rise to her temper. Instead, he leaned forward, looking iner her eyes with interest. "I find that trait attractive in you. It is worthy for the wife of a Malfoy."

She felt her mouth drop open. He'd given her a bizarre compliment. How lovely. She wanted desperately to make a sarcastic remark but bit back her words, knowing that far more than the marriage was at stake. She could only stare at him, dumbfounded.

He seemed oblivious of her dumbfounded expression, and his hand lifted to touch the end of her hair, his fingers idly playing with the strands as his expression became more thoughtful. "Hardly a way of establishing trust in a marriage, however," he said.

"I suppose not," she said stiffly. She once again resorted to being more formal and business-like, hoping that it would allow her to react calmly, when she was, internally, anything but.

He seemed completely unaware of her internal struggle as he continued, "We will have to put this unpleasantness behind us. Don't you agree?" he asked, withdrawing her hand and looking at her pointedly. His tone was condescending, almost as if he were speaking to a willful child.

She ignored the tone, although it took some effort on her part. "Yes, Lucius."

"I think we need to set some ground rules."

She sighed with resignation, even a bit of hope. If they could put each other's deception behind, perhaps it would allow them to build some sort of mutual respect. "That would probably be useful," she replied.

"Good. I would hate to have to dissolve our union so soon." He raised his hand to trace her jaw line, his gaze cold.

The hopefulness she'd felt only a moment before disappeared. The way he spoke sounded as if he wasn't talking about a simple annulment. It sounded more like she wouldn't leave this marriage alive. She suddenly realized that, as morbid as her expectations had been, she'd been far too optimistic. She nodded, swallowing down the lump in her throat.

"What do you suggest?" she asked, trying to sound calm and reasonable, hoping that it might cause him to respond in kind.

He smiled again, as his hand moved along her throat and down to her collarbone. She held her ground and tried not to flinch from his touch.

"Tell me about your other lovers," he commanded.

"I don't have any other lovers," she insisted, although her voice shook slightly.

He raised his other hand to her neck and she had a moment of fear that he might try to choke her. But it was only a moment. Before she could react, his hand moved to the neckline of her dress, which he grasped firmly and casually ripped open, baring her chest. She gasped in shock and embarrassment, trying to pull away, but his hands still held the material of her garment, forcing her to stay seated.

"We already discussed this, Ginevra. I demand the truth."

She tried to push the material back in place, but his hands grabbed her wrists holding her firmly. Stunned by his action, she looked into his eyes and saw an intensity there that left her speechless for a moment. Her breath quickened, but she was unable to look away from him. After several seconds, she managed to nod, then bit her lip, hoping that her response would satisfy him. "There was only the one. I already told you. I don't know his name."

In an instant, he released one of her wrists, drew his wand, and commanded, "Legilimens!"

Without warning, images flashed through her mind as she remembered kissing Dean, and Micheal, and Harry. They were simple, innocent images and she almost welcomed them. Then, the very fuzzy image of a brown-haired, blue-eyed man with glasses drifted in and a warmth spread through her abdomen at the memory. The thoughts paused there and she became uncomfortably aware that an unwelcome stranger was rifling through her memories as Lucius searched her mind for a name. Nothing came.

He released her mind and snarled, angrily looking into her eyes as he lowered his wand. "Apparently, you've spoken the truth."

She turned away from him, flushing with embarrassment as her mind and her torso had been brutally exposed to him. She once again tried to pull the torn material to cover herself.

He stopped her from completing the action. "Not so fast. We aren't done here."

"Dare I ask what more you want?" she said, trying to sound haughty, but her voice was ragged.

His gaze turned lecherous as his hands reached to play with the ends of her hair, then moved to fondle her exposed breasts. "Need you ask, my wife?"

She closed her eyes as she accepted his caress, forcing down the bile that was rising in her throat. She reminded herself that she had chosen this and, distasteful as it was, she would comply.

"No, Lucius."

His caress turned immediately brutal as he grabbed and pinched her. She gasped in pain, and tried to move away, but his other hand still held her wrist. Her eyes opened to look into his angry gaze.

"First, I ask you to address me accordingly when we speak. I am the master of this household and I expect to be addressed appropriately. You will address me as 'My Lord'."

Her eyes flashed in anger. She was his wife and her first thought was that she refused to be seen as anything but his equal. She wanted to respond accordingly, but before she could even attempt to form the words, he pinched again and she cried out in pain.

"Yes, My Lord," she responded, biting out the words with bitter malice.

"You've already embarrassed me. I won't accept any other exceptions to our contract. You will honor them to the letter or I promise you that the consequences will be dire."

"Yes, of course..." she said. He pinched again, and she twisted in pain, unable to pull away. She realized that she needed to use his repulsive title. "My Lord," she gritted out through clenched teeth.

His hand moved back to her throat, caressing menacingly.

"Very good. Second, is there any chance that you've conceived a child by this previous lover of yours?"

"No. I took a potion to prevent any mishaps." Thank goodness that this was the truth. Something told her that if she responded incorrectly that he wouldn't hesitate to snap her neck.

"Very well," he said, his voice once again changing to sound calm and almost patient. "In that case, we will put this unfortunate misunderstanding behind us." His smile once again returned, but with false kindness. "Now, you will make this up to me, won't you?"

"Of course... My Lord," she responded, reluctantly.

"It is my understanding that you are untried in other ways of pleasing a man, then?"

She nodded, completely not liking where this conversation seemed to be leading.

"Then it will be my privilege to educate you," he said.

She felt her heart sink in despair.


	4. Chapter 4 Settling In

Chapter 4 – Settling in

Monday morning she sat with her husband at the breakfast table dressed in a sunny yellow dress, the bright color a complete contrast to her dark, depressed mood. Two days in this house and she was wondering how she was going to survive being there another minute, much less a lifetime.

The good news was that Lucius would be going to the Ministry to attend his duties in the farce that was now the Wizengamot. She would not have to deal with his "loving" ministrations during the weekdays and she found herself grateful.

"Is there anything in particular that I should tend to while you're away?" she asked, hoping to make some sort of polite conversation with the man. She would always hate him but she held out hope that there might eventually be some level of civility between them.

"Draco should be here this morning. He will begin training you on keeping the accounts and managing the affairs of running the household."

Lucius did not bother to look up from his breakfast in response to her inquiry. His demeanor giving the impression that he viewed her questions as a mild nuisance to his morning routine. Nevertheless, she pressed onward, hoping to give the semblance of a conversation.

"I haven't seen him since Friday. Does he even live here?"

"He has no choice but to remain, for now. I hope to be rid of him soon enough."

"You expect him to move out when he marries?" she asked, making an assumption and hoping to maybe learn more about her new 'family'.

"He won't marry. The Dark Lord won't permit it, at least until he chooses to prove himself," her husband responded shortly, continuing to show more interest in his breakfast than to the conversation.

Ginny sat back, slightly shocked by the words. The man definitely had a extreme interpretation of the term 'tough love'.

"I'm not sure I understand..."

Lucius stopped eating and placed his utensils down, looking at her squarely. "It is not for you to understand. Draco spends the weekends out with his friends or his whores to avoid being near me. A wise choice, mind you. He is my son in name only and will retain that privilege only until the point that you produce a new heir."

She stared at him, her mouth dropped open in shock. Her husband ignored her and returned to his meal.

Eventually, she responded, "He must have truly disappointed you."

Lucius paused in his eating, and replied without even looking up at her. "He disappointed the Dark Lord."

She spent her first morning alone in the manor trying to accept her fate. She didn't cry, although a good part of her wanted to. She'd spent far too much time doing that over the last two nights and had decided that wallowing further would only send her into into an endless state of depression. She'd chosen this life for herself and she was determined to live with the consequences, no matter how harsh.

Instead, she spent an hour or so wandering around the ground floor, looking in the various rooms and admiring the elaborate materials that went into each unique area. It would take her weeks to truly explore and appreciate the entire place and she was glad of it, as she would need something to keep her mind occupied during her imprisonment.

What little enthusiasm she'd managed was unfortunately tempered by the realization that there would be little fun in enjoying anything in the place if she didn't have a single companion with which to share her discoveries.

Despite that, she was determined to hold out hope. While Lucius had demanded that she remain isolated, she prayed that she might eventually be able to correspond with somebody, at least via owl. She would need to work on that. Perhaps, with time. She willed herself to keep a positive attitude or else she was afraid she'd go mad within the first month.

Finding a pretty room on the ground floor, she settled herself near a window. The warm sunshine made her drowsy and she closed her eyes from the bleak winter view to imagine happier times, willing herself not to cry again. Slipping into a blissful, drowsy state, she'd almost managed to forget where she was when her daydreams were interrupted by the sound of someone entering the room.

Startled by the noise, she looked up to see Draco striding in purposefully, his dark cape swirling around him in the same manner as when he'd left on Friday and with the same scowl set firmly on his face.

"Found my mother's parlor, I see," he stated flatly. She didn't fail to notice the fact that not only did he forgo a salutation, but he didn't even bother to address her by a name. She frowned, realizing that he wasn't going to make this easy for her.

"I didn't realize this was your mother's room. I was only bored and looking around," she returned, just as directly. She hid her shock and a small amount of embarrassment. Narcissa had been dead for barely a year. It was not Ginny's intent to replace her in any way, yet, in her very first day alone in the house, she was giving that very impression.

He let out a grunt of acknowledgment as he removed his cloak and tossed it over the nearest chair, seeming unwilling to look at her directly as he immediately moved toward the desk in the corner of the room.

"We need to be here anyway," he continued, sitting at the desk, still refusing to look at her as he spoke. "This is where she typically kept all the books, at least the current ones."

"Oh..." was all that she seemed to be able to say. She wanted to come up with a sharp retort, if only to get him to wipe that sneer off his face for a moment but she was at a loss for words. She was the interloper in this house and a part of her couldn't blame the man in front of her for being at least a little angry. She was a year younger than he and here she was, expected to fill his late mother's role in managing the household. It was uncomfortable, at best.

"Draco, before we start, perhaps..."

He cut her off. "I'm not interested in some little speech you have about becoming my step-mummy," he snapped.

So much for that route. He had no intention of being civil.

"I'm about as thrilled to be here as you are to see me here," she spat back, feeling just a bit angry. "If there was any other choice, I would be just about anywhere else. Unfortunately, I'm stuck here and it might be easier on both of us if we just drop the hostilities." At the very least, she felt that she making an attempt to cohabitate with this man, and she certainly felt she deserved some small amount of consideration in return.

"Hmmph," he responded.

He motioned for her to pull up a chair as he pulled out the first of the neatly labeled ledgers from the shelf behind the desk. With no preamble, he started his lesson on the basics of managing the books of the manor. Not once did he look directly at her, still she forced herself to remain polite and attentive to his instruction.

Most of the process she wasn't sure she understood, but the idea of handling accounting seemed like it would be a good challenge to keep her occupied for a while. There were a variety of budgets to be managed, from food to maintenance expenses and entertainment. She wondered aloud why, with so much money, that they tracked so many details.

"Because we don't trust Gringotts to always be truthful with us," Draco responded to her question in a business-like tone. "Nothing keeps a Goblin more honest than to know that he's being double-checked. It's also not beyond a number of merchants to overcharge as well. There's nothing a Malfoy hates more than being cheated."

She found that bit of information interesting, as it would likely apply in many regards to her new life.

After a couple of hours, it became obvious that she had absorbed all that she could for the morning and they called an end to the lesson. They ate a quiet lunch of sandwiches, neither speaking very much, the silence between them far from companionable. Draco remained cold toward her, speaking only when necessary. She had at least expected, and would have even welcomed, some of the taunting remarks that she'd grown accustomed to at school but nothing came. His demeanor was, in her opinion, unsettling.

"Tomorrow, I'll give you a tour of the manor so you are familiar with everything. You'll need to learn the family history, the meaning behind heirlooms and such. You might want to bring a quill and parchment to take notes," he told her as they finished the meal.

"Can we start on that this afternoon or did you want to continue going over the accounts?"

He looked at her oddly. "I wasn't planning on doing either."

"Well, what will we be doing?"

The confused look on his face only seemed to deepen. "Well, I was going to go out to the stables. You can do whatever you like."

"I'd rather not stay in this mausoleum more than necessary. It would be nice to be outside."

He said nothing, only looking away and nodding.

He unenthusiastically showed her the gardens and disappeared shortly after, curtly uttering something about seeing her at dinner. She watched him depart with a small amount of relief, since it seemed that being in her company only made him irritable and she turned back toward the large area that he'd called, "the gardens."

She immediately fell in love with the gardens. Albeit, it wasn't yet spring so most of the expansive area was dormant, but still it was glorious to see how lovely an area could be when it wasn't infested with gnomes.

Her mind immediately started to plan for a section near her parlor that would hold vegetables and herbs instead of flowers. It was the first thing she could feel positive about and, while it wasn't much, she was grateful to find something that wasn't horrible about her new life.

Draco did join them at dinner that evening but, just as it had been on Friday, the atmosphere between the two men at the dinner table was cool, if not hostile. She held her tongue, only speaking when Lucius initiated conversation. When Lucius escorted her upstairs for the evening she could feel Draco's cold stare on her back, forcing her to involuntarily shiver.

The rest of her week passed much the same as her first day. Mornings were dedicated to learning and afternoons she was much on her own. She tried not to think too much about her nights.

Friday evening came far too quickly. She'd settled into the routine of the week too readily and was almost unprepared for when Draco left again for the weekend. Not that the younger Malfoy's company had made much of a direct impact on her, but it quickly became apparent that Lucius was more affected by his son's presence than he had originally implied.

Draco's departure seemed to only anger Lucius, and Ginny soon found out that he felt compelled to take his anger out on her in his attempt to replace his disappointing heir.

When Lucius departed on Monday morning, Ginny only felt grateful relief. She had always been a social creature, but the weekend of time with her husband, and the typical Saturday evening dinner with his friends left her welcoming the chance to spend time alone.

Going to Narcissa's parlor, now hers, she looked around at the ornate furniture and tried to imagine what the previous occupant's life was like. Looking to find something useful with which to occupy her time, she continued to review the financial records, thinking that records of the past would allow her to learn more about her present.

Opening up an older ledger, she started reading individual entries in the wide columns, noting the clean, elegant penmanship of the previous bookkeeper. The entries told stories of parties that were thrown in the manor, Christmas and birthday and anniversary gifts. Narcissa's life had been recorded here in some small way, and Ginny once again found herself wondering about the previous Mistress' untimely end.

In the most recent ledger, the elegant script abruptly changed to a bolder style, likely where Draco had taken over the duties of his mother. No entries of parties or other events were noted whatsoever. Apparently, life here had been forever changed with Narcissa's loss. Ginny wondered how it would change with her arrival.

Looking at Draco's exceedingly neat handwriting, she noticed a small subtraction error in the rightmost column. Not much, only a few galleons. It surprised her that someone would be so neat in their script, yet sloppy about the arithmetic in an accounting ledger. She ignored the small error and closed the book. Deciding that she needed to learn more about her new task, she wandered off the the library to find an accounting text and read up on the subject.

She had a short list of questions prepared by the time Draco returned late that morning. She felt a rush of annoyance at his late arrival but said nothing. Just as he did the week before, he entered the room without offering any kind of courtesy or greeting, coldness and anger still radiating from him.

In some ways, she thought he was worse than his father. She had no feelings for her husband's son, as he'd been hardly more than an annoying acquaintance when she'd attended Hogwarts an eternity ago but, unfortunately, he was currently her only companion during the long, lonely days. Dealing with such open hostility was an unwelcome burden on top of an already difficult situation.

At that moment, the effort of appearing unaffected by the hostility was suddenly too much for her. She would much rather be left alone than have to interact constantly with someone who hated her so intently.

Attempting to hide her distress, she turned away from him and began to walk over to the ornate white desk in the corner, her steps awkward because her legs were stiff from the abuse she'd suffered over the weekend. She unconsciously reached her hand up to rub her neck, moving her hair aside.

"My God, what happened to you?" he asked, walking up behind her looking at the now visible bruises on her exposed neck.

She blushed furiously, shamed at the memory of the last few nights and angered at the idea that she had to explain herself to this person. "It doesn't matter. It's for me to deal with." She quickly moved her hair and fidgeted with the neckline of her dress to hide the marks. As she lifted her arm, her sleeve moved up, revealing more bruising on her wrist. She mentally made a note to see about getting a potion to heal those.

The look on his face surprised her. He looked almost distressed as he stared at the bruises. He rubbed his hand over his face and through his hair, mussing it uncharacteristically. "Did he do this to you?" he finally demanded.

Her back stiffened in a mixture of surprise and annoyance at his demand. She felt mildly affronted about him prying into her personal matters, but she saw no reason to shield him from the fact that his father was a bloody bastard. "If you insist on knowing, yes, he did," she responded haughtily.

She noticed him shaking his head in disgust, anger clear in his eyes. Immediately, she assumed that his disgust was toward her and she decided that it was time to bring his issue with her out in the open. She'd had more than enough with tolerating poor behavior from Lucius, she had run out of patience with his son.

"I suppose you think I deserve it for threatening your inheritance," she spat.

He looked up at her, his expression showing confusion. "What makes you think that?"

His reaction surprised her, throwing her carefully prepared argument right out the window. "Your father told me that he..." she stopped, unsure if she was about to say something that she shouldn't. After all, Lucius didn't state that Draco knew that his life in luxury was set to end as soon as she gave Lucius another son.

Draco let out a humorless laugh before he responded, "He told you that nothing would please him better than to see me out of this house and out of his life permanently. Yes, I know that. Believe me, if I could leave now, I would."

She silently concurred with him, hoping for him to leave soon, so that she could at least have some respite from everyone during her days.

"Are you all right?" he asked, looking concerned as he reached over to take her hand to look at her wrist. The words triggered a memory from the last time someone had actually expressed concern for her and she promptly cast the stray thought aside. She was so shocked by his action that she didn't immediately attempt to pull away.

"It's nothing. I'll survive. I've gotten worse from playing Quidditch."

He scowled again. "Except you weren't playing Quidditch."

She snapped her hand out of his grasp. "It's none of your concern."

Her sharp response didn't deter him, as he seemed determined to probe further. "Why are you here, anyway? Surely, do didn't want to marry into this?" he asked just a bit too forcefully.

"I said it's none of your concern!" He'd hit a nerve by asking these questions. She was already in a poor mood and he was only making it worse.

"Everything here is my concern. Tell me. Was it because your family is that bad financially? They actually let you marry a man who's old enough to be your father. Why?"

Internally, she gave a bitter laugh. Had anyone in her family known about her plan, they would have locked her away and kept her there to protect her from herself. Malfoy didn't need to know that. She decided to divert his line of questioning.

"Why are you here?" she demanded. Part of her was curious, another part simply wanted to taunt him. "After all, you've just said that you'd rather leave and it seems that your father doesn't want you here anyway, yet you stay. Perhaps you're the one staying here for the money."

He laughed bitterly. "How naive you are, Weasley."

At least he had called her by her name, finally. Her former name. Her true name. She had no desire to correct him.

"I'd hardly say naïve," she retorted bitterly. "Uninformed, perhaps, considering the accuracy of the press these days. Possibly even sheltered to a certain degree, but one can hardly be totally naïve in the middle of a war."

He looked at her with something akin to resignation, possibly even pity. He stated sadly, "There is no war, Weasley. Voldemort has won. He controls everything. Resisting him is futile. I've learned that the hard way."

She was surprised that his tone didn't anger her in the slightest. Quite the opposite, actually, as her shoulders sagged in defeat, as she realized that she agreed with him. "So have I, Malfoy."

He sat down on the sofa near the window, leaned forward and placed his head in his hands. After a moment, he gave a heavy sigh, seeming to come to some sort of decision.

"I suppose a truce is in order," he finally said.

"I'd appreciate that," she said, still standing near the desk. "It seems that neither of us is exactly in your father's good graces and I could do without more animosity."

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend?" he gave her a look, not exactly a smile, but the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.

"Something like that."

He motioned to the bruises. "I take it you aren't exactly in wedded bliss."

She shook her head sadly and walked stiffly over to the chair across from him and sat down, feeling much better than she had since first setting foot in this godforsaken mansion. She might not have a friend, or even an ally, but at least he might not be another enemy.

"I take it then, that you had very little choice in this arrangement," he finally said.

She nodded, "I had a choice. This or my brothers' lives. They have children on the way. I couldn't see that happen."

He chuckled bitterly. "Gryffindor. Always have to be the hero, don't you?"

She narrowed her eyes, slightly angered by the remark. "It's not about glory, or about money. And you still haven't told me why you are still here, since you seem to want to leave so very badly."

He paused, seeming to debate with himself internally about whether or not to answer her. Finally, he said, "The reason I don't leave is because Dark Lord doesn't wish it. He's hoping that I might be brought around to be a proper follower in my father's footsteps."

"I thought you already were," she said.

He shook his head, then looked back up at her, his face taking on a look of bitterness and anger. The honesty of his expression surprised her. "I tried. I failed. Nothing more needs to be said."

"Then why don't you leave?" she asked.

He looked straight into her eyes and said, "You've entered the Serpent's Lair, my dear Weasley. The Dark Lord holds those close to him in the strictest control. He has to give the rest of society some freedom or he risks open rebellion but he doesn't give his closest followers the same courtesy. "

She found her temper rise. At the very least, he seemed to be able to retreat elsewhere on the weekends, while she was bound to this location for the foreseeable future, yet he claimed to be bound. "Freedom? How can you say that my family has freedom? People live in fear of simply having open conversations on the street!"

"And the rest of us live in fear of even thinking a stray thought," he finished sharply. "The Dark Lord wants to sculpt the world to his liking and he's starting with those most loyal to him. I can't leave here because if I do and counter the Dark Lord's plans for me, whatever they may be, I'm as good as dead. The Dark Lord would call me a traitor and if I'm lucky I'd get Imperioused. If he's having a bad day, I'd likely get used for target practice."

"So why don't you just follow him? It seems like it would be easier for you."

He laughed bitterly, "I tried. I think you know that."

She felt an odd feeling of sympathy for this young man seated before her. "When you tried to kill Dumbledore and failed," she stated flatly.

He looked at her for a moment, seeming to debate whether or not he should tell her more. She wasn't trying to be rude, but she was extremely curious about him after his strange admission and she returned his gaze openly. Finally, his expression softened, almost in resignation.

"Death Eaters need to be able to kill and torture on demand. I don't have the stomach for it. I've proven that on numerous occasions, Dumbledore was only my first attempt. They see me as a failure and a coward," he explained with a harsh laugh, as if some amount of bluster on his part might make it sound like a joke.

The admission was surprising. She had never liked him when he was younger, in fact, quite the opposite, yet, his words seemed to cause her to feel some empathy. Against her better judgement, she decided to offer the only words of comfort that came to mind. "There's no shame in not being able to kill someone," she said.

Another harsh bark of laughter escaped from him. "Believe me, for them it is and they've certainly done their best to motivate me. My mother is dead as a result and I'd rather not get the Cruciatus again."

"Oh..." she seemed to be saying that a lot today.

"Fear not, dear Weasley. I'm not the one you need to be afraid of in this house."

"I know that," she said quietly.

They didn't speak about personal matters any more that day. Both were uncomfortable with what they'd discussed that morning. Instead, they focused on business matters until lunchtime both lost in their own thoughts about their newfound truce.

xxxxx

A/N - Please remember to review! Thanks!


	5. Chapter 5 Diagon Alley

Chapter 5 – Diagon Alley

They developed a tentative friendship after that first conversation. Not that they spoke very often, and he still refused to look directly at her when he did, but at least their time together could be described as an amicable companionship.

At the beginning, she was fiery. He liked that about her. She was also smart, learning her duties quickly and competently. He almost regretted when he had no further reason to meet with her in the mornings to go over lessons.

As spring began and the weather called her outside, he soon found her frequently watching as he worked with his horses every afternoon. Not that he minded her being there, quietly sitting on the patio outside her parlor or walking along the path where he worked, but she just looked so very...bored. It didn't suit her at all.

Finally, after three weeks, he'd had enough.

He made a point of walking by her parlor as she stared vacantly out the window. Her fire was fading, he could see that. After just over a month in the manor, she had gone from being determined and stubborn to now being resigned. She was losing hope and he found that, despite his initial anger at her, he didn't want to she her become broken.

He came up behind her, looking out the window at the few early crocuses that had cropped up in the cold and otherwise still barren landscape.

"Would you like to actually learn to ride, instead of just sitting there and staring at me all day?" he said, attempting to sound irritated with he, but it was half-hearted.

She ignored his tone and brightened immediately as she turned to him. "You would do that? I mean, you would be willing to teach me?"

He found her genuine smile made him feel cheerful. "It gives me something to do," he responded, failing to completely hide the smile that he found himself echoing back toward her.

She hurried upstairs to change into something appropriate for riding while he prepared a horse for her. Choosing the gentlest mount available, he found himself looking forward to the lesson.

They met daily as the weather warmed into spring. Mornings were reserved for affairs of the house, including bookkeeping, servants, management and maintenance, as management of the estate was not a trivial task. Despite being a quick study, she still relied heavily on Draco for many of the unfamiliar details.

Afternoons, however, were set aside for things that were of a more recreational nature.

She learned about the gardens, which quickly became her favorite task in managing. She immediately chose an area for her own purposes and as soon as the weather permitted, she planted herbs and vegetables for her own consumption. She noticed Draco seemed to be amused by her enthusiasm for the chore.

Other days, if she became bored with her gardening, she would join him in the stables. She quickly found that this was, by far, his favorite place on the estate. While he didn't speak much, she'd been able to deduce one fact about him. Specifically, the man loved horses.

Six beautiful specimens resided in the elegant carriage house on the grounds. Two mares and a yearling colt, a mild-mannered bay gelding named Hanson, a high-spirited stallion named Barnabas which was Draco's pride and joy, and a small gray pony that Draco had ridden as a child and remained as a beloved pet.

She found that, while she might not have ever been interested in horses in her earlier life, she quickly became addicted due to seeing Draco's enthusiasm for the beasts. She became intrigued not only with the animals but with Draco himself, who seemed to change to an entirely different person while around the creatures that were his passion.

When he talked about his horses, she saw the man she thought she knew disappear entirely. The spoiled child she knew in Hogwarts, and the stiff, silent and controlled young master of the manor were gone. In his place, she found a man who was warm and caring to his charges, a man who had compassion and empathy. In short, she saw a man to whom she could relate.

It had all started with her first lessons in horseback riding.

She'd only been looking for some sort of distraction, of course, when she'd initially agreed to go along with him for the lessons. In the beginning, she'd wondered why he'd even asked, as he seemed to merely tolerate her company. Yet, as soon as she had shown interest in not only riding but also in the care of the creatures, he'd opened up with a wealth of knowledge that almost overwhelmed her.

Their lessons were short, as she soon found muscles that she'd never used as she became acquainted with the skill. Yet, she frequently stayed in the area longer than necessary, typically watching Draco work with Barnabas skillfully.

After, both of them would work in the stables on the more tedious tasks of caring for their mounts. They spoke little but slowly, a respect began to build between them. She enjoyed this time of quiet labor. In her life, it was by far, the most calming and sane portion of her day. As the spring came to pass, Ginevra Malfoy nee Weasley finally settled into the routine that was her new life.

xxx

It was a lovely May morning that Draco found himself walking past the shops on Diagon Alley, paying little attention to the storefronts. This particular morning, his thoughts were restless as he pondered his current situation and started thinking again about the Weasley girl.

He was well aware that he was a disappointment to his father, although he'd long ago learned to live with that fact. Before the Dark Lord had returned, his father might have been able to forgive him for his weakness, but that time was long past. Draco had come to accept that his father became well and truly lost to the Dark Lord on the day his mother died.

His line of thinking led him down the now painfully familiar path of wondering about the fact that his father had gone so far as to remarry in an attempt to replace him. He still wasn't sure how much of the idea was directly his father's or a specific suggestion from the Dark Lord.

In any case, it was likely that Lucius would disinherit him completely once another heir was produced. The idea was neither surprising and, at one time, had not been entirely unwelcome as far as Draco was concerned. Actually, he'd been preparing himself for the day that he would have to leave from the moment he'd seen the life leave his mother's eyes. It had been her last wish that he escape her fate and he'd had no intention of disobeying her.

But then the Weasley girl had come into his life and made a mess of things. Of all the witches in the world, he wondered, why did his father have to bring that particular one into their lives?

Truth of the matter was that Draco liked the girl. After getting over his initial anger at her sudden marriage to his father, he'd grown to enjoy spending time with her during the weekdays. Their time together was pleasant and he frequently managed to forget her role in the household, making it all the harder when he was reminded of the cruel reality of the situation.

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he thought about her. The very idea of the girl being used in such a way continued to sicken him and he feared that her future would only get worse.

He took in a deep breath as he thought about her. It seemed a shame that a woman with so much passion should be brought to such a sad fate. He'd already noticed how she had begun to fade steadily since the marriage, as her hope steadily marched toward a slow death.

She'd done it for her family, to save them from pain and torture and certain death at the cost of her own freedom. He didn't understand the action at all.

Completing his errands, he continued to wander along the street, stopping in the bookstore to pick up a new book for his 'stepmother', hoping that it might brighten her day, since it depressed him to see her moping about the house more and more frequently.

He had been just about to head back home when he found himself outside the Weasley's joke shop. With the proprietors now out of criminal custody, it was once again open but the place appeared subdued. Once it had been a bustling enterprise, now, it was simply a business. How things had changed, he thought.

He wandered in, not exactly sure why, and looked around the relatively quiet establishment.

"Look what's wandered in, Fred."

Subconsciously, he must have known that they'd notice him. How could they not? And how could he expect anything other than animosity? Yet, he was there, driven by something intangible.

"If it isn't our new relative. What would you call him, George?"

"Technically, Fred, I think he's a step-nephew. I guess that will have to do because if I come up with something vile enough to fit what he really is, they might cancel our probation and re-instate that death sentence."

Draco stood there silently, taking in their insults calmly until they finished.

"What brings you in here, Ferret? We don't want your business," one of them finally taunted, addressing him directly.

"Just paying my respects," Draco replied. He truly had no idea why he'd entered the shop except that, for some reason, these men were important to Ginny. He wanted to meet them and perhaps learn why she'd give up her life for theirs.

"Respect is something you haven't got," one said.

"It doesn't matter," Draco responded. "I just wanted to let you know that she's well enough."

One of them made a noise of disgust. "We all know full well what that means. She'd be better off as a beggar on a Muggle street than being with the likes of you."

Draco found himself rather affronted at the insinuation and decided that correcting them was in order. "May I remind you that it's not me that she's married, so taking your anger out on me doesn't really affect the situation in the least."

One of the twins looked like he might be ill. Both looked disgusted and Draco couldn't blame them because he felt the same disgust for the situation.

Feeling that they were far from actually having a conversation, Draco decided to attempt an exit before one of the brothers decided to maim him in some way. As he stepped toward the door, he couldn't resist one parting statement. "I'll let her know that I've seen you and you both appear well enough. I assume your mother is safe as well?"

One of them nodded prompting Draco to feel a small sense of relief. "Best keep it that way," he advised sharply, his annoyance at the twins for causing this mess coming to the fore. "She did it for you, make sure that it was worth it."

He turned and made to leave the store.

"Wait, Malfoy," one of them said.

"Yes?"

"Take a couple of these and give them to her," the twin said, handing Draco a small bag of candies.

He looked at the bag suspiciously, knowing quite well how harmful most of the products from the Weasley shop could be. "Are these safe?"

The twins smiled and Draco saw a hint of the old mischievous grins that were once a permanent fixture on each of them while they were at Hogwarts. Somehow, the image was a welcome one, an echo of more carefree times.

"Yeah, those are harmless," one said.

"They'll just turn your tongue different colors for a bit, is all," the other one finished.

Draco nodded and smiled as he took the bag and left the store.

xxx

To say she was delighted was an understatement. It was as if the sun had finally shown after a long, harsh winter. It warmed him to see her take the bag and immediately pop a treat into her mouth. He watched her savor it as if she hadn't eaten in months.

The moment didn't last long, however, and the melancholy soon returned to her features.

"They are well?" she asked, looking both sad and hopeful. It bothered him.

"They aren't as upbeat as I remember them, but yes, they seem well enough. They said your mother is well also."

"Good. That's good," she responded hesitantly, unsure of what more to say on the matter.

"I told them to make sure it stays that way," he told her, hoping that it would reassure her in some small way.

His words had the desired effect, as it made her smile, just a bit, at the thought of him reprimanding the twins on her behalf. "You didn't have to do that, you know."

"I know. Can't say I know why I did it in the first place, other than the fact that I know my father would have wholeheartedly disapproved, but it was all right."

"Thank you. It means a great deal to me...to know about them, I mean."

He nodded and left the room, largely because he couldn't help but notice that her tongue had turned bright green and, frankly, he found it a bit disturbing to continue to converse with her like that, even if it did make him smile.

xxx

A few days later, he had another errand to run for his father and found himself once again in Diagon Alley and, just like the previous time, he wandered near the shop almost without conscious effort. Except this time, he actually knew why he wanted to enter. He had come to the conclusion that he wanted to see the girl smile again.

Waiting until the area seemed to be quiet enough for him to enter without being noticed, he slipped inside.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in, Fred," one twin muttered, though he sounded nowhere near as deadly angry as he did the other day.

"That's what you get, George. You feed them once and they keep coming back," the other answered.

Feeling less like his life was in danger, now that they'd exchanged some warped form of pleasantries the other day, he stepped up to the counter.

"She really appreciated the sweets," he said.

The mixture of sadness and appreciation on their faces matched what he had seen on Ginny's face as she enjoyed her candies. They missed each other and he suddenly became fully aware that it he was the only link between her and her family.

"You'll let us know if there's anything she needs, won't you?" one of them asked.

He nodded. The girl wanted for nothing that money could buy, unfortunately, that seemed to bring her no comfort. The beautiful bird in the gilded cage, he thought. The only thing she wanted was her freedom.

"She wants to see you all, I'm sure."

"But she can't come out."

"Not alone anyway. He doesn't trust her, since she's the only reason that he feels you and your Order friends aren't causing more trouble. Even if she could come out, she'd be under his supervision and she wouldn't be allowed to speak to you."

"Poor sis," one of them said, as the other sounded like he bit back a sob.

Not wanting to have the blokes crying on him, he decided to try to assure them a bit.

"She's adapting," Draco told them. "It's not like the place is that horrible to be trapped inside. I've been trying to teach her to ride and she spends plenty of time in the gardens." He decided it was best if he didn't talk about the marriage at all, certain that they didn't want to know of the abuse that she endured. "She mostly misses you all terribly."

"That's good," they both nodded uncomfortably.

"Look, I'm not trying to be nice or anything but if you want to send her a note, I'm sure that will brighten her up a bit. It's annoying when she gets all mopey about you. And she liked the treats, though I had to leave when her mouth started turning weird colors."

"Yeah, we can do that," one replied and immediately pulled out a piece of parchment and started to scribble something down.

He handed over the note and, as Draco took it, he added, "I'll probably stop by next week. If anyone else has something, I'll pick it up, yeah?"

"Yeah, Malfoy," one of them agreed, giving an almost, but not quite, friendly look.

"Thanks," the other one added, sounding humble.

"Don't thank me. My motives are totally selfish. She's more pleasant to be around if she's happy, and if my father found out, he'd be annoyed to no end."

xx

He gave her the note when they were out in the stables, getting ready for her daily riding lesson. He, of course, had read the letter before giving it to her to make sure that it wouldn't upset her. It was short, to the point. They sent greetings and their love. She took the note from him and he watched her eyes grow wet with tears as she read the few lines over and over.

"Thank you," she finally said as she looked up, smiling.

They each got on their respective horses and rode quietly after that. She was unsure of what to say after that and noted that he immediately moved the conversation to something that was more comfortable for him.

"I think you are ready to head out now, don't you think?" he asked.

She agreed. Her comfort level with handling the horse had grown immensely and she had built up the appropriate muscles so that she no longer ached after riding. He took the lead and they started to ride along the grounds, leading her along some of his favorite trails, near the forest and a small pond.

The day was beautiful and everything was lush and green. They slowed the horses to a slow walk so that they could admire the area. She felt a small smile come to her face, feeling that it was possibly the nicest day she'd experienced since first arriving at the manor.

After he glanced back for the sixth or seventh time, she interpreted it as an opening to begin a conversation. She motioned to the trail and asked, "Is this what you did as a child? Ride along here all the time?"

He seemed surprised that she spoke, as they rarely did, and she thought for a long moment that he wouldn't respond. She was pleased when he finally replied, "I did. Sometimes on a warm day, I'd stop and take a swim here. Never really had anyone with me, though."

No wonder he had been such a bully in school, she thought. He was reclusive, and it seemed he was not accustomed to actually making friends. Crabbe and Goyle were better defined as bodyguards rather than friends. Zabini seemed to be the only one with whom he could actually relate.

"I think I can appreciate spending time alone in a place like this. It's very peaceful," she commented.

"It's good to come out here, easy to forget about... things," he said, and she knew he was referring to whatever was going on with Lucius, with Voldemort. She was slowly gathering from her conversations with Draco that he didn't have it easy as a child. She appreciated that he was trying to help her cope with this life, as he had to learn to do on his own.

They didn't talk much during the ride. They never did, really. It was all about riding and her form, or now, about the grounds and the trails. The trails were rather maze-like and she could easily get lost, not to mention if something should cause her to unexpectedly fall, so it would be some time before she'd likely come out this way on her own. It wouldn't do if Lucius had to come out to look for her. She didn't mind having to be escorted on her rides.

Draco was becoming a good companion. His presence, even though he spoke very little, was comforting. They shared a similar imprisonment, after all.

They returned as the sun was low in the sky. Worried that they'd been out too long, Ginny hurriedly unsaddled her mount and rushed into the house. Her timing could not have been worse. Not only was she running late for dinner, smelling distinctly like she'd been on a horse, but Lucius had had a bad day and was in a foul temper.

He sneered at her as she rushed into the bedroom to quickly wash and change. "I ask so little of you, Ginevra. Yet, you seem to continue to disrespect my wishes," he said coldly.

"I'm sorry, My Lord," she responded. "I didn't realize how far we'd gone, and it was such a lovely day to be outside."

She did make it to dinner on time but Lucius' mood didn't improve. Something had happened during his visit with Voldemort and he chose to vent his frustration at her. Draco could only glance at her apologetically, as he was just as much at fault for their late arrival. She wasn't about to pin the blame on him. They both were guilty of simply having a nice time.

Lucius said little during the meal and his anger seemed to permeate the room. She couldn't help but think that they both felt like children on the verge of being severely scolded.

As the meal ended, the punishment was announced, "Come Ginevra, I think we will retire early this evening." Her heart dropped to her shoes. As she got up from the table, she glanced at Draco, his head slightly bent as he toyed with his remaining dessert, he was biting his lip and was looking decidedly guilty. She so wanted to let him know in some way that she didn't blame him, but there was no way that she could make that known without Lucius noticing. She quietly let her husband lead her up to their rooms.

The next day, she walked slowly down to her parlor and pulled out a book, finding a quiet, isolated corner in the library to curl up and read. She was bruised and sore and more than a bit angry. She would have loved to go outside again and ride or do something physical to channel her energy, but she hurt too much.

When Draco found her late in the morning, he entered the room cautiously, looking downtrodden and concerned.

"Did you want to go riding today?" he asked.

This was the way it was between them, neither would speak directly about her situation as it was far too uncomfortable a topic.

"I'm afraid I'm not feeling up to it," she said calmly.

He nodded, and she caught the flash of anger and guilt once again cross his face before he spoke.

"Well, it looks like it might rain soon anyway, probably not wise to be out too far," he said, trying to allow her room for her excuse, although he likely fully understood her meaning.

She nodded, keeping her focus on her book. She felt like crying and didn't want him to notice. She bit her lip to keep her emotions in check.

"I'm very sorry about yesterday," he said. "I should have been more aware of how far we'd gone."

"It's not your fault," she choked. "I wasn't keeping track of the time either." She sniffled, and soon the tears were rolling down her cheeks.

This was not what he wanted. She was obviously in pain, both physically and emotionally, and it was his fault. Not that he should have cared for the most part, but she'd become a rather steady companion, and it would likely stop her from continuing to be so if the consequences were too much.

She looked away and he caught sight of the tears rolling down her cheeks. She was incredibly beautiful, even as she cried, her ivory lace gown making her look even more vulnerable. He hated his father for destroying the strong girl he once knew.

He moved to sit beside her, taking her hand. Again she tried to turn away from him but he found he was compelled to wipe away the tears from her face.

He gently put his hand under her chin and lifted it so that she was facing him, then he brushed the tears away, barely resisting the urge to kiss the wet streaks on her cheeks. As he pushed her hair away from her face, she leaned in to rest her head against his shoulder, where she continued to sob quietly. He wrapped his arms around her, engulfing her small frame into a hug feeling her whole body collapse against him as she sobbed.

It had been such a happy day for the both of them. Where they'd both been able to forget about their prison, if only for a short time, and it had ended so very badly for her. He regretted that so very much.

After a few minutes she stopped crying, gave a small hiccup and straightened up. "Thank you. I'm sorry to have done that."

"My shirt will dry, I'm sure," he responded, once again turning into the picture of calm and distant.

"We should get outside, before the rains come. I'll watch you dig in the garden if you wish," he suggested.

She chuckled. Far be it from him to imply that he actually do anything in the garden with her, though he would find ways to amuse himself while she tended to her vegetables. She agreed and they wandered amiably out to the patio, making no more mention of her small breakdown.

They spent the next hour among the flowers and vegetables as Ginny tended to the vines as best she could and Draco obligingly hexed a few weeds into oblivion. Her mood once again lightened as they focused on their tasks in the warm sunshine.

As the rainclouds began to cover the sky, they started to move in.

"Ginny..."

"Yes," she smiled as she turned to him. He loved it when she smiled.

"Father asked me to go pick up some potion ingredients for him tomorrow, so I'll be out for most of the afternoon."

"Oh," she said, and he found that he was pleased to see that she appeared unhappy that he wouldn't be around most of the day.

"I could stop by your brothers' shop, if you'd like to drop off a note or anything..." he suggested.

Her smile seemed to brighten up the entire area, even though the sun had long passed behind the clouds. "I would like that very much."


	6. Chapter 6 The Swamp

Chapter 6 – The Swamp

And so it went for the next three weeks. Once or twice a week, Draco would go to Diagon Alley to attend to his various business dealings for his father and, while there, he would make a brief stop near the Weasley shop to drop off and pick up notes between Ginny and her family. He and the twins devised a way to have a small drop box outside the shop so that he wouldn't risk being seen associating with them. Though, if it was particularly quiet, he would occasionally step inside.

After the third week, he decided that he wanted to get Ginny something more, something from him, so he walked into the shop and nodded to the twins, quickly handing off her latest note.

"We've got one from Mum this week," one said as he produced the latest piece of parchment.

Draco took the parchment and tucked it in his pocket. "Actually, gentlemen, I'm here as a customer today," he informed them.

"Well, that's different," one remarked, immediately switching to a mock sales persona.

The other looked mildly surprised as he remarked, "And here I was just thinking he was stopping by to admire our stunning good looks, Fred."

"What can we help you with, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco smiled inwardly as they addressed him. My, how quickly things changed. A few weeks ago, they'd called him Ferret.

"I hear you carry a portable swamp."

"Ah, yes, excellent choice for a disagreeable neighbor," one cheerfully stated.

"I've heard it can also work for hiding a body, but nobody has stepped forward to definitively confirm that," the other one agreed.

Draco found himself stifling a chuckle. The two were incorrigible. He'd seen their sense of humor in small doses in the past weeks and was finally beginning to understand why Ginny was so fond of them.

"How big are you looking for, and, may I ask, what is the intended use?" the first one asked in a cheerfully serious tone.

"It's for Ginny."

"Well, if you are looking to hide the body of our sister, we might have a bit of a problem," the second one stated, deadpan.

Draco momentarily feared for his life, but then decided that providing a bit more information was his safest course.

"No, I wanted to give her one to accessorize her garden. I think she might enjoy making a small section of it to remind her of you two. I hear Filch never was quite able to get rid of the one you installed at Hogwarts."

The two brothers looked at each other and broke into identical grins. They made Draco think of a pair of animated, garishly red-haired bookends. They turned back to him in unison. "Excellent idea!"

As Draco started to reconsider his purchase, one started talking again. "She did write to Mum about the garden. It seems to be one of the nicer things about living with the likes of you."

The other twin jabbed him in the ribs. "Now Fred, be nice."

"Just joking. Sorry, I meant, your father. She doesn't seem to mind you so very much."

"No, and we do want to say we appreciate the courier service. Our Mum has been worried out of her mind."

Draco swallowed his reply to that remark. They should be worried. The brothers caught his look and understood, but they chose not to speak about it, since it had become abundantly clear over the past weeks that it would do none of them any good.

Draco decided to focus the conversation to the much more agreeable topic of the swamp.

After some deliberation and some modification, Draco walked out of the shop with a small package, neatly gift wrapped in Gryffindor red, containing a three by three meter version of the product. It was charmed to avoid some of the less desirable swamp characteristics but would, however, have numerous crickets, lily pads and even a bullfrog. He planned to give it to her as soon as he returned from his weekend.

- x - X - x -

He didn't have a chance to deliver the note before leaving for the weekend, mostly due to the fact that his father had returned home that afternoon early. Then, he became acutely aware that the idea of leaving for his weekend retreat was no longer as enticing as it once had been. Nevertheless, it was best that he wasn't around when his father was in the house during the weekend. He tended to spend as little time as possible around the man, since it only led to arguments, and arguments only seemed to make the nights worse for Ginny.

He felt some guilt that Ginny didn't have the same luxury of escaping that he did. She never complained, but he knew she was miserable. He continued to try to think of a way that might help her, even started to consider attempting to regain his father's favor, but such a distraction would take planning and time. For now, he could do no more than give her a sympathetic glance as he departed on Friday evening after dinner.

For some unknown reason, he returned early on Sunday evening instead of his usual time on Monday.

Trying to appear inconspicuous when he returned home, he wandered past her parlor to look for her and was disappointed to see Lucius with her, going over her bookkeeping for the manor. He didn't enter the room, knowing it would only serve to put his father in a foul mood, yet, he found himself lingering near the open door, just out of sight of his father to observe their interaction.

She looked tired but she didn't appear to be in distress so Draco hoped that things between them were getting better. It was unlikely, however. His father wouldn't be happy until he'd broken the girl, taking her spirit and eventually forcing her to behave exactly as a proper pure-blooded wife should. Draco knew that it was inevitable. He knew his father, and he'd seen how she was becoming increasingly complacent, even now as she meekly followed her husband's instructions on managing the household.

So much of his own future hung on this girl. When she bore a new heir, he could be free. He'd have nothing but what he'd saved over the last year, but it would be his chance to leave this life and the demands of serving the Dark Lord. She, on the other hand, would become even more firmly bound to this prison. Ultimately, even if she could leave after bearing the child that Lucius demanded of her, Draco felt that she wouldn't. It wasn't in her nature.

It was a sad scenario. It amazed him that she bore it with such dignity and grace.

The next day, he waited eagerly for his father to leave for the Ministry so that he could do what he could to make her happy.

He waited out of sight, observing as she demurely kissed her husband goodbye before he departed. When she turned to go outside, Draco appeared by her side almost immediately. It pleased him to see the sadness lift from her face as soon as she saw him.

"Are you planning to ride today, or work in your garden?" he asked her.

"A little of both, perhaps," she responded softly, working to produce a small smile for him. "The garden doesn't get much attention on the weekends and I hate to let it go for too long."

"Then, the garden it is!" he said, a bit too eagerly. She regarded him with a small amount of suspicion, although he noticed that her smile brightened just a bit with fondness.

"It's not like you to be interested in my garden and neglecting time with your horses," she said.

"Well, I do have an ulterior motive for helping today."

"Dare I ask what?" she asked as they made their way out to the patio, regarding his grin with a growing amount of amusement.

"I picked up a small something for you."

She perked up even more, all thoughts of her horrible weekend now being pushed from her mind. "You got something? For me?"

"Well, first, there's a note from your mother."

She clasped her hands and gave a small jump. He loved drawing out the suspense for her. She was so animated in her happiness. "Oh where is it?" Then, she turned and looked crossly at him, "or are you planning to make this into some nasty little game?"

"No game, love, here it is." He handed the parchment over and she eagerly opened it up and read it quickly, clutching the thing to her chest when she was finished.

He looked at her pressing the paper against her and felt oddly jealous of the scrap.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. "She sent a picture of my brother and the new baby! A girl! It's so wonderful!"

He nodded. A picture of her brother with his child never would have occurred without her sacrifice. Moments like this made her feel her life was worthwhile. He hoped his present could match up.

"Well, if that's good enough to make your day, then I guess you don't need any present from me," he said airily, as he began to walk away toward his beloved stable.

Her response was exactly as he'd hoped. She stopped him by grabbing his arm so quickly that he almost was spun around to face her. He barely suppressed his grin. "You mean you brought me more than the note?"

"Perhaps, but you seem quite taken with your picture, and I hate to compete," he said seriously, but the smile in his eyes softened his words.

"You brought me something."

"I did," he responded, once again attempting to turn and walk away. She was having none of that, now that her cheery mood had returned.

"Well, you have to let me know what it is! I mean, leaving me in suspense all day is simply, well, it would be mean."

He looked down at her, teasing him, trying to look innocent and pleading and he found himself enjoying the moment very much.

He gave a heavy, exaggerated sigh. "Well, I suppose I'll have to give it to you or you'll likely pester me all day and we'll never get anything done, will we?"

"Exactly," she confirmed.

He pulled the small package from his jacket pocket and handed it over to her as casually as he could manage, although he was feeling anything but calm inside.

Her eyes lit with joy as she accepted the item, forcing him to smile along with her. She tore into the package like a small child, bits of the once immaculate wrapping flying everywhere. As soon as she recognized the box, her eyes danced with a rare glow of true happiness.

"You got this from my brothers' shop!" she declared excitedly.

He felt a delighted smile come to his lips, and realized it was an unfamiliar expression, but, surprisingly, he found that he enjoyed it. "They customized it specially for you. Now you can have a little bit of home with you here."

She squeaked in joy, then compulsively threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. He instantly found his arms wrapping around her waist and hugging her in return.

As quickly as it happened, both of them jumped back in realization of what they'd just done. The kiss was quick, hardly more than what one would give to a friend or a family member, but, nevertheless, they both knew that it had crossed them into dangerous territory. Over the last three months, they'd become friends, allies. They enjoyed each other's company out of a shared commiseration and, over time, a fondness had developed.

This impulsive action had just made them into something more.

The awkwardness lasted a moment and they started looking away from each other, then, both turned to the box, pretending the incident hadn't happened. It took a few minutes, but they soon became engrossed in the new toy. They had something happy to share and neither wanted to lose that.

Reading the instructions and planning for placement of the pond dominated their conversation for the rest of the morning as they worked to install the item in the most optimal spot. They finally agreed on an area that she could see from her parlor, yet would be inconspicuous to the master of the house. They adjusted shrubs and other plantings and, finally, just before lunchtime the portable swamp was unleashed.

It was beautiful, at least to them.

They walked back into the house, covered in dust and mud, laughing like children. The swamp was an act of rebellion, and they reveled in its creation. They cleaned up and had a light lunch together on the patio, making sure that the table placement gave them a view to admire their work.

The afternoon was mundane by comparison. Lucius had given her a long list of maintenance and she needed to follow up on those tasks, so Ginny had to move to her parlor to work on the latest correspondence and management duties.

Draco moved off to his stable to tend to his horses and she found herself looking up from her desk frequently to glance out the window. She made very little progress on her work because she found herself hopelessly distracted by the sight of the handsome young man working in the sunshine.


	7. Chapter 7 Desperate Measures

A/N - Warning, this chapter is what the M rating is for. It is a violent chapter and contains physical and sexual abuse. You are warned.

Chapter 7 – Desperation

The end of May found Ginny almost feeling as if she could survive in her new life. She had found at least a few good things on which she could focus in order to manage. She doubted she would ever be happy, but her new life had settled into a routine of sorts.

Weekends were still difficult, however, and she depended on thoughts of the short notes from her family, or the memory of peaceful afternoons with Draco, or watching her swamp to draw her attention away from the more unhappy events in her life.

This particular weekend had started off normally. As was typical on weekends, she and her husband dressed to attend one of the social events that were common among Voldemort's inner circle. Attendees at these parties were the elite, the most loyal, the most vicious. Ginny hated every last one of them – both the parties and each of the guests.

She spoke little during the events, having nothing in common with these people, but she did listen, hoping to pick up information that might someday help in defeating Voldemort.

This weekend's particular event was a Saturday evening dinner party which happened to be more boring than usual. Ginny spent much of her time standing in the corner, warily watching the other guests and imagining ways that she might poison the lot of them. She wondered if they suspected her motives and amused herself with the thought that that was the reason that she'd not yet been requested to host a party at Malfoy Manor.

She endured her usual trials during the course of the afternoon. There were the open taunts and insults against her friends and family, the sickeningly glowing praise of their Dark Lord and, of course, there was Augustus Rookwood, giving her his usual leering looks.

Weeks ago, she'd found the mental resolve to turn off her emotions during these soirees. It hadn't been easy at first, but Draco had given her advice from his experience. Eventually, it became a game where she secretly thought of herself as being superior to them all and internally laughed at their stupidity. Thinking of Draco having used the same tactic gave her reason to almost smile, as she remembered his haughty looks when he was back in Hogwarts.

As usual, she didn't eat or drink anything at the dinner out of caution that the food might be tainted in some way. Instead, she pushed her food around on her plate, giving the impression of eating. Over the weeks, she'd practically mastered it. It was becoming quite routine.

The party ran extremely late, dragging well into the early hours. She saw nothing particularly intriguing about the party, yet the guests remained, driving Ginny almost mad with boredom and an overwhelming desire to go home.

Finally, the reason for the late evening became known when a special guest arrived to join in the festivities. She felt herself shiver as the atmosphere in the room drastically changed. Looking over at the entryway, she soon realized why. Lord Voldemort himself had entered the room.

She'd known him and loved him and feared him once, when she was eleven, the cursed diary having made her far too familiar with the madness behind the man. But the creature entering the room was not a man. She cringed.

Fortunately, he paid her no mind, as the others in the room were far too busy fawning over him. She barely contained her feelings of disgust.

That was when he turned and looked directly at her.

"You disapprove of me, my dear Ginevra," he stated. _Those in his inner circle fear even a stray thought_, she remembered hearing Draco say. Suddenly she was well aware of her mistake. She'd allowed her thoughts to become too rebellious at these gatherings, by not fully realizing the power that Voldemort wielded in this area.

She said nothing, standing and staring wide-eyed as the most evil, loathsome man in the world stepped toward her.

"Lucius, a word," he said.

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius said, stepping forward and bowing low before him. She thought he looked like a house elf.

"And yes, they are, Ginevra," Voldemort responded to her unspoken comment. "Everyone in this room understands their position in my world," he said, motioning about the room as others bowed around him. "Everyone, except you."

She realized that she was the only one clearly not paying homage to this creature. She looked about hesitantly, and then gave a shaky, low curtsy.

"Better, Ginevra. Better, but your thoughts give me cause for concern."

Internally, she cursed herself for never having learned any form of Occlumency. Voldemort turned back to her and gave a slight chuckle. "It wouldn't help, Ginevra." Damn!

He turned to Lucius. "Lucius, my loyal servant, you've ensnared a beautiful bride," he said.

"Thank you, my Lord," he responded respectfully.

"After all these months, however, she seems to remain as willful as ever," he continued.

"Yes, My Lord."

"And that is the problem, isn't it?" he said turning and addressing everyone in the room. Ginny cringed, as Lucius took a moment to give her a dark look.

Voldemort continued, and she got the distinct impression that this particular exchange had been planned. He didn't need to speak louder, as every ear in the room was aptly tuned to his every sound and movement, but he was clearly a master of theatrics. He raised his voice, just a bit to make sure that the crowd understood that he was now addressing them all, "There are far too many who remain unwilling to accept that we are molding the world for the greater good of all wizards."

The murmur of agreement at his statement echoed throughout the room.

The creature who was once Tom Riddle now ignored her as he played dramatically to his audience. "Ginevra is not the only problem, however. We have too many desirable, pure-blooded witches and wizards who refuse to succumb to the inevitable. That fact makes them undesirable as spouses, and even more undesirable as parents to our future generation."

Ginny felt her blood run cold at his words. Something bad was going to happen, and she had a terrible thought that it might be about to happen to her.

The crowd continued to make approving noises in agreement at Voldemort's speech, and he was giving the appropriate theatrical pause to allow his words to sink in.

"Idealists such as our young Ginevra, give us cause for concern," he said, motioning toward her as she stood frozen in place, unsure of what she could possibly do to rectify her mistake. She quickly realized that her best course of action was to do nothing as the monster in front of her continued his speech. All eyes in the room were now focused on her as he continued, "While they may be managed in the current times, they will pass down their misguided idealism to their children, creating a further rift in our world."

Again, murmurs of agreement.

"Dear Lucius has already seen the results of how disappointing a child can be as a result of a mother who is too soft," he said, motioning toward her husband. She looked over at Lucius, trying to discern any expression on his face, but she saw nothing. Once again, she wondered if Narcissa had been murdered because Draco was a disappointment as Voldemort's words and tone implied that very possibility.

"But, I am a man of peace," he said. Ginny just about gagged at hearing the words.

"Therefore, today is a glorious day as I announce plans for the betterment of our future. As of today, my loyal followers, I wish you to be the first to know that, laws will soon be drafted to allow our benevolent government to obtain custody of all children under the age of five."

Ginny felt her blood run cold at the words.

Voldemort's face then twisted into an evil smile and Ginny felt bile rise in the back of her throat at the sight. "In the very near future, every child with an appropriate blood background will have the unprecedented opportunity to be raised in an environment that is best suited for their talents and heritage."

She forced herself to breathe as she processed the madman's words. They were going to take the children. They were going to kidnap the children and brainwash them to follow Voldemort. A deep panic at the realization began to run rampant through her body.

She didn't hear the rest of the speech, something about him calling for volunteers to be the first surrogate parents. All she could think about was Bill's son and Fred's daughter, both of whom might soon be taken forcefully from their families.

She had to do something.

Her mind darted hysterically back and forth with desperate ideas. She started calculating how close she was to Voldemort, what she could use as a weapon...

"Lucius!" she heard Voldemort say loudly, stopping his speech as well as interrupting her frantic thoughts.

"Yes, My Lord."

"Your wife is planning to murder me. Remove her from my presence and teach her some respect. Now!"

Fury lit Lucius' eyes as he grasped her arm in a painfully tight grip and Apparated back to the manor.

- ~ - ~ -

They landed in the entrance hall, Ginny falling from being thrown off balance as Lucius released her.

"Get up!"

He didn't wait for her, instead, reaching down and hauling her to her feet.

"You have embarrassed me!"

She'd finally lost her temper. It was one thing to hear those fools talking reverently about Voldemort at their prissy little parties, but it was another to hear the inhuman creature's clearly insane plans. She hadn't thought it possible, but her opinion of the lot of them had actually dropped even further. She could no longer hold her tongue.

"In front of that! You must be joking!" she spat back.

"You have shown a lack of respect for the Dark Lord. Not even Narcissa was allowed such leeway."

"And what do you intend to do about it?" she challenged, her temper finally gone well past its limit.

His response was a powerful strike across her face. She saw stars.

She'd cowered in the past. Over the weeks, he'd stopped beating her because she'd willingly fulfilled her duties as his wife but she could not, would not, stand down in the face of the atrocity that had been announced this night. For the first time in her marriage, she struck back, landing a punch on his jaw that would have made her brothers proud.

"I will not be treated that way!" she shouted watching him stagger back in shock and pain.

He'd only been stunned for a moment and, unfortunately, she hadn't had time to formulate any kind of plan as to what she might actually do after striking him. His gaze only darkened as he stepped closer to where she stood her ground.

"You'll be treated as the Dark Lord dictates," he said, wiping blood from his lip. "And the Dark Lord has stated that you need to learn respect."

She backed away, having no wand, her only defense being her own small body. Lucius wasn't an overly large man, but she knew she was no match for him.

The struggle didn't last long. He grabbed her arm and she immediately began to kick and claw, only earning her another blow across the face. She continued to struggle but was unable to break free as he hauled her up the stairs. She tried to collapse, making herself a dead weight and slowing his progress, so, he dragged her, twisting her arm painfully in the process. Somewhere in the journey, her head collided with something hard, possibly his boot but most likely one of the marble steps and she almost blacked out entirely.

At the top of the stairs, he tired of trying to haul her toward the bedroom as she continued to resist. Instead, he grabbed her hair and lifted her. She managed to land a few kicks, but she was now dizzy and disoriented from the blow to her head. Still, she fought with every ounce of strength she possessed.

He finally turned her away from him to minimize her ability to strike out at him and forced her against the banister at the top of the stairway, her ribs smashing hard into the wood as she was shoved. She felt a crack, and a sharp stabbing pain in her side, making it extremely difficult to breathe, but that was the least of her worries as the upper half of her body was now far over the railing and she was more concerned about falling five meters headfirst to the marble floor below. She grabbed onto the railing desperately to prevent herself from going any further.

He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, growling into her ear. "I've been too accommodating to you, Ginevra. Your only use to me is to bear a child, which, I must say has been an abysmal failure up to this point. We will have to work harder at that, won't we?"

"No," she sobbed quietly. Protesting would be useless. He'd won. She had nothing left to fight with.

He left her dress intact, only removing her panties in order to complete his work. When he finished, he pulled her up from her position on the banister and turned her to him. She was limp with fatigue and pain as he held her up to speak to her.

"Let us hope that we do not have to repeat this lesson, Ginevra," he said harshly and with that, he turned and left, presumably to return to his Dark Lord's side.

She stood there for a moment, stunned and whimpering. Her thoughts torn between the nightmare that was her life and the need to send a message to her family to warn them. Physical need overcame as she desperately needed to find a way to heal herself in order to function. She tried to turn to her bedroom but the dizziness overcame her. Before she moved two steps away from the banister she'd been holding for support, she lost consciousness and dropped unceremoniously in the middle of the hallway.

She woke once or twice, first noticing that it was dawn, then again at midday. Each time, she tried to get up, but the pain and dizziness were too much.

- ~ - ~ - .

Draco didn't know why he'd started returning on Sunday evenings instead of Monday mornings. His weekend retreat had always been a welcome haven, but for some reason in recent weeks, he found himself drawn back to the Manor by thoughts of seeing Ginny. As the weeks of spring came, not only did he return on Sunday evening, but he found that he arrived earlier and earlier.

As he walked into the house this particular weekend, it was only late afternoon. He moved through the ground floor quietly, hoping to see Ginny working alone in her parlor but was disappointed to find the room empty. Not that he was entirely surprised, it was rare that he encountered her alone on a Sunday evening, but still he held a small hope.

He began to wander back to his room when he mistakenly ran into his father, exiting his own study, Augustus Rookwood by his side.

"Father," Draco acknowledged, giving a curt nod of his head.

"Draco," his father returned, just as formally.

Being found, he had to make up an excuse, not only for being home but for wandering the ground floor. He didn't want it inferred that he might have been specifically looking to find Ginny. He walked away from the older men, as casually as he could manage, but slowed his pace when he heard Rookwood's next question.

"So your wife will not be joining us for dinner? I so look forward to her company." Draco tried not to cringe at the man's tone.

"She has retired for the evening," Lucius responded coldly.

Draco turned the corner, unable to listen further at the risk of appearing obvious. Instead, he began walking slowly toward his room, deep in thought about his ever growing attachment to the girl.

He reached the top of the stairs and began to turn, sparing a glance back down the hallway toward the master suite. He hoped Ginny was alright, since it seemed rather unusual for her to retire so early in the evening.

A hint of something light colored on the floor caught his eye and he walked over to inspect the oddity. It appeared to be Ginny's dress, discarded in a lump on the floor. The sight was more than a bit unusual and Draco swallowed a dry lump in his throat in disgust. Deciding that he would check on his friend in the morning, he was in the process of walking over to pick up the garment when it moved and made a pitiful sound.

He ran the last few steps.

"Ginny, oh my God, Ginny where are you hurt?" he asked, finding her face among the folds of golden silk. Her face was bruised badly on the left side, blood had poured from her nose and had run down the front of the expensive gown, her left eye was swollen shut.

"Can't...can't breathe..." she whispered. Her hand weakly reached to her side. Making a quick assumption based on the sight of her bruised face, he tore open the tight bodice of the ruined dress to try to allow her to get some air. She winced as his hand brushed against her ribcage.

"Probably a broken rib," he muttered partly to himself. "Does it hurt anyplace else?"

She paused, looking slightly afraid of responding, then, after a moment, she shook her head negatively.

"C'mon, let's get you fixed up then," he said, lifting her up and helping her to stand. "It's probably better if you walk. If I carry you, I'm afraid of injuring that rib further."

She nodded and he moved to support her as gently as possible. He started making steps toward the nearest guest room and that was when he noticed the awkwardness and pain as she walked. She most certainly was in pain elsewhere. She'd been raped...again.

He bit back from shouting in anger at the injustice of the situation.

Entering the room, he called the house elf to turn down the bed and get him towels and water. As the elf readied the rest of the room, he picked her up as gently as possible and put her onto the bed.

Suddenly aware that her dress was open, revealing her undergarments, she started to pull the torn material together.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I'll be alright now. You better go."

"I'm not going anywhere until I'm sure you're well enough," he said, slightly angry. She allowed his father to do unspeakable things to her, yet, she became modest and shy at him, her friend, getting a glimpse of her underwear?

She turned her head away, apparently not wanting him to see the tears that were now watering her eyes. "Please, just go. I don't want you to see me like this."

He sat on the side of the bed and, for some reason, felt compelled to begin stroking the hair from her tear-stained face. "Ginny, I want to help you. What kind of a friend would I be to leave you like this? Please, don't be shy with me, not when you're hurt."

"I'm just so...ashamed," she sobbed.

He touched the side of her face, the side that wasn't bruised, and gently turned her to look at him. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, Ginny Weasley. You are the strongest woman I have ever seen, and I'm a better person for knowing you."

She smiled at that, albeit weakly, the light finally returning to her eyes, or at least the eye that wasn't swollen shut. He leaned forward and gave her a short, soft kiss, ignoring the mess of blood covering her face.

~ - ~ -

She didn't remember much of the night after that. Draco gave her a potion to help with her mild concussion which put her to sleep almost immediately. She'd tried to push him away prior to falling asleep, she really did, but he'd refused. She'd even tried to argue with him without success.

In truth, it was the simple fact that she'd been unable to handle the situation on her own that made her feel far more vulnerable than she would have liked. That, along with Draco's tender expression of concern for her had left her feeling far too many emotions that were best left alone if she was hoping to remain sane.

Instead, she'd fallen asleep feeling unusually safe. When she awoke, she found that the blood had been cleaned from her face, her rib had been healed and she was dressed in a modest, clean nightgown. Despite all her injuries, it had been the best sleep she'd had since she'd arrived in this nightmare.

It wasn't easy, but she forced herself out of the bed shortly after dawn, unwilling to have Lucius come looking for her. She moved slowly back to her room, trying to assess the remainder of her injuries as she walked. Her face still felt bruised, but was no longer swollen, as she could open her left eye well enough. The concussion was better, but not entirely gone, as she found that quick movements left her dizzy and a little nauseous. The rib was also still feeling bruised and tender, but no longer to the point of interfering with her ability to breathe.

As usual, her attire was out and waiting for her as she entered her own bedroom. Almost immediately, she felt a slight headache begin to return at the familiar sight.

She cleaned and dressed, making her way slowly to breakfast and was unsurprised to find Lucius waiting for her, reading his copy of the Daily Prophet and acting as if nothing unusual had happened.

She wanted to hate him further, but she was beyond that. The sight of him now only brought a feeling of cold emptiness. It was something beyond her ability to categorize.

Taking her seat, she quietly began eating her breakfast, neither making an attempt at any type of greeting.

After several minutes, he carefully folded his paper, placing it to the side and stated bluntly, "Must you appear at breakfast in such a state?"

"I'm sorry, My Lord," she responded calmly. "I am only in the state that you left me."

She wanted to say more, perhaps to add some biting remark about giving more specific instructions while she was unconscious, but she knew that it would only cause her more grief. She reluctantly held her tongue. She even gave a half-hearted attempt to look contrite.

"As per our agreement," he said, with strong emphasis on the word 'agreement', "it is expected that you maintain a proper image at all times."

"Of course," she replied, appearing to be properly submissive, while seething inside.

After Lucius left, Ginny searched the house looking for Draco. She wanted to apologize for her horrible attitude toward him, when he had only been trying to help. He didn't deserve her anger but unfortunately, he'd been her only outlet at the time.

To her bitter disappointment, he was nowhere to be found.

She returned to her rooms and tried to find an appropriate potion somewhere in her cabinets to help with the bruising on her face. Lucius had gotten a good look at what he'd done to her, she didn't need to press the issue and incite further argument.

After a lonely lunch, she went outside an sat on a bench to admire her swamp. She loved it so very much. It was a good reminder that she was here for a reason and that thought helped her get through the day. She was about to go inside when she heard the familiar sounds of Draco's footsteps approaching.

She didn't turn to face him, the potion she'd found had helped, but her face still remained slightly discolored. Somehow, she was still embarrassed to have him see it, even though he'd already seen the damage at its worst.

"Ginny..."

She didn't allow him to finish, cutting in with her apology quickly. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't want you to see me like that. I shouldn't have been so snappish."

"There's nothing to be sorry about," he replied, moving around in front of her so she could no longer avoid his gaze.

There was an awkward pause, neither comfortable with the topic of the previous day. After a few moments she spoke, "I need to ask you, next time you go to Diagon Alley, if you could pick up some more potions for bruising and such. I'd brew it myself, but I was always terrible at potions."

"I'd rather not have to do that," he responded looking at her pointedly.

She was more than a little surprised by his answer. He was denying her a healing potion? Her brow furrowed in confusion and more than a bit of annoyance. She forgot about trying to hide her appearance from him

"Why not?" she finally asked, since he seemed to be unwilling to volunteer the information.

He sat down beside her, his expression seeming a bit contrite. He looked down at his hands almost nervously. She found his demeanor to resemble a little boy who'd done something bad and she found it incredibly endearing.

Her voice softened as she prodded him again, "Draco, why not?"

He took a deep breath and responded, "I was there today, in Diagon Alley. Spent the whole morning there doing some thinking." He sighed again with a small amount of defeat in his voice, "I did pick up some potions for the next time..."

It was obviously difficult for him to say whatever it was, so she remained quiet while he found his words.

Finally he spoke, but his voice was more than a bit shaky. "I don't want there to be a next time, Ginny. I swear if he does that to you again, I'll kill him myself."

"Draco, I know I did wrong. It was my own fault. I provoked it."

"You didn't bdo/b anything wrong, Ginny!" he said sharply.

She jumped. It was so unlike him to raise his voice and while his remark hadn't actually been as if he was shouting at her, the command in his voice was something she'd been completely unprepared for.

She stared at him, her mouth hanging slightly open with her momentary loss of words.

He didn't look at her as he continued, "I went to Diagon Alley today to see your brothers. I had a good long talk with them and we've decided that we want you out of here."

"You've decided..." She gave a sharp, short, humorless chuckle. "Let me make sure I understand this... You and my brothers decided that I should leave here."

"Yes," he said, now looking at her direction, his expression dead serious.

"I can't believe you just said that."

"I can get you past the wards while he's away at the Ministry. All we need is a few days to get your family into hiding and you can go home."

He'd been expecting to see her face light up with joy, instead, he saw her brow furrow in worry and a bit of anger.

"No, Draco."

"What?"

"I said no. I'm staying here. I've already thought long and hard about something like that. Fantasized about it rather frequently, actually. My answer is no. It's not feasible to hide everyone and, even if we  
could, he'd find some other way to hurt someone in order to draw me out."

"And he's not hurting you now? Hurting your family by keeping you here?"

"We couldn't hide forever, Draco," she said softly. She turned to him, taking one of his hands, "Besides, what would he do to you if he found out that you'd helped me?"

"I told you not to worry about that. I have my own plans."

"That's why you've been siphoning off money from the accounts every month. Am I right?"

He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"I've been going over the older books to learn. It's rather noticeable that the galleons started disappearing right after you took over the accounting duties. "

He gave a sheepish half-smile. "I'm surprised you didn't mention it sooner," he said.

"Not much reason to," she said. "It's not exactly enough to say you'd be living a lavish lifestyle."

"It's enough to get me started somewhere if and when I need to leave."

She nodded. "Your secret is safe with me. But, I should warn you that if it was easy enough for me to notice, certainly he would find out about it shortly after I left."

"Thank you, I suppose. But we weren't talking about me. You changed the subject."

"I'm not leaving."

"Ginny..."

"Don't fight me on this. And don't you dare bring my family into it either," she said angrily. "I don't need them worrying about me. This was my decision and I'm going to live with it. I just need to be more careful, is all."

He dropped his head into his hands in defeat. "This is not wise Ginny. You have no idea of the game that he's playing."

"And I suppose you do?"

He shook his head no, still hiding his face in his hands. Finally looking up, he said, "You have no idea what he's capable of. He's not sane."

"He killed your mother, didn't he?" she asked, the conversation finally giving her the opening to ask about the topic that had been on her mind almost daily since she'd arrived.

He shook his head, "No, but he might well have. He blamed her for my failings. The Dark Lord did the rest. They made her an example. He just stood there and allowed it to happen."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me."

"It surprised me," Draco said sharply. "He loved my mother," he said the disbelief and grief still evident in his voice. "They loved each other very much."

"Oh..."

- ~ - ~ - ~ -


	8. Chapter 8 Healing

Chapter 8 - Healing

The next few days were, at best, uncomfortable for Ginny. Draco was clearly angry with her although he did take her latest note to her brothers to warn them of the danger their families might soon face. Upon returning, he'd tried again to convince her to leave and after growing tired of her steadfast refusal, he muttered something under his breath that included the word "stubborn" and stalked off.

She'd made the mistake of following him and the subsequent discussion escalated into an argument. She'd regretted it immediately, but she not before she said some horrible things to him about interfering. She hadn't been angry with him, not really, but her pent up anger at her situation had somehow let her words be far sharper than necessary.

She had been afraid to seek him out after that, spending her time with other things. Looking for something to do, she remembered that Narcissa had kept track of birthdays and anniversaries in the ledger. She recalled something about Draco's birthday being in June and decided to look that up. While she was at it, she tried to find other dates that seemed of interest and made a list. She might abhor these people she associated with, but polite society dictated that she should probably acknowledge them with cards or notes for special occasions. As she'd agreed to perform the duties of a proper wife, it was not only a propriety, but an obligation..

Next on her list was to spend some time in the library looking up everything she could find on Occlumency. While it was a skill that she might not be able to master without practice, she was hoping to find some sort of techniques to at least avoid another event like the one she'd had during the last weekend, and she certainly had a desire to keep certain things from Lucius if he ever chose to perform Legilimency on her again.

But keeping herself busy did little to help her mood. By the end of the week, she was practically driven mad with the silence between herself and Draco. The distraction of her work didn't make up for the fact that she missed him horribly. The realization left her fervently wishing to set things right between them before he left for the weekend.

It was Friday afternoon before she worked up the courage to try to find him and determine if his mood had lightened enough to speak to him again. Unsure of how to apologize, she waited until she saw him return from a long ride on Barnabas, both of them looking rather muddied and warm after their trip. Feeling that he might be in a better mood after what was obviously a long ride, she gathered her courage to wander down the path toward the carriage house.

By the time she found enough nerve to actually approach him, he was working on washing the horse down, talking softly to the animal as if the two were having a normal conversation. She enjoyed taking in the sight of the two of them, the fact that Draco's shirt was off revealing his lightly tanned torso only added to her enjoyment of the scene.

It also distracted her enough to momentarily forget why she had gone there in the first place. "You really love that horse, don't you," she said.

He didn't jump, apparently having been aware of her presence before she spoke. He didn't look up as he responded, "We're old friends."

He continued his work, the silence between them almost uncomfortable. She was attempting to find something to say and was surprised when he continued, saving her the effort.

"Barnabas was my only true companion for far too many summers. He was the only one whom I could be certain would never betray me."

The horse's ears perked at the sound of his name, one eye looking over at Ginny warily as he stood patiently under Draco's ministrations.

"How long have you had him?" she asked, glad that the uncomfortable tension between them seemed to have eased. The topic was safe, uncontroversial.

"Since I was fourteen," he said.

"I'm surprised."

"Why is that?" he asked.

"Wasn't that right after your incident with the Hippogriff?"

He had taken his wand and was showering the suds from the horse with a light spray of water, so she didn't catch his expression as he answered, but she couldn't miss his blush of embarrassment. "It was a stupid stunt," he said. "I knew what I was doing would harass the beast but I didn't realize how much. I let my annoyance with Hagrid and Potter get the best of me. I learned my lesson. If anything, it made me better prepared for handling one like Barnabas."

She smiled, thinking that it was nice that some good had been gained from the infamous incident.

Flicking his wand again, a towel appeared and Ginny watched the item move over the horse, drying it. There was such a sense of peace working around the animals here, no wonder Draco had found his retreat among them.

"How long have you been interested in horses?"

"Since I was about six. My mother thought it was proper for all aristocratic children to have some knowledge of the more traditional ways. So, she bought Twinkle for me as a Christmas gift."

"Twinkle?" she repeated.

He motioned to the steel gray pony that was currently watching them from the door of its stall. Draco walked over to give the creature an affectionate scratch behind her ears. The pony was quite beautiful, not shaped like the typical chubby ponies she'd seen, but like a smaller version of perfectly proportioned horse.

"My mother named her, and it seemed perfectly fine when I was six," he replied, indignantly.

She laughed.

Draco returned to Barnabas and continued his story, "Mother brought in a tutor, who lived in the apartment here in the carriage house. He taught me almost everything I know. I even competed in some Muggle competitions."

"And your father had no issue with that?"

Nodding, he replied, "My father had mixed feelings about it at first, but then he decided that he wanted me to compete in the Muggle world. He found it funny to see me winning against them, beating them at their own sport. It helped me to develop my wonderful sense of superiority."

"Hmmph," she replied, though with a small smile.

He unhitched the horse and the three of them walked outside together.

"I graduated to riding Hanson after I outgrew little Twinkle, and Barnabas... Let's just say that when I saw him, I knew that he and I were alike and I had to have him."

"What about the mares?" she asked motioning to the field where the other horses grazed in the warm sunshine.

He released Barnabas into a separate fenced pasture, where Hans was already awaiting his arrival. They watched as Barnabas immediately dropped and rolled in the grass, dirtying his damp coat.

"The mares I got for Barnabas. I thought he was too fine a creature to not have a legacy of sorts. The yearling is his first son and I expect the other mare to deliver next spring."

"Quite a hobby you have here, Mr. Malfoy," she said.

"You don't know the half of it," he replied. "There's so much about breeding that I could spend days boring you with the details."

Somehow, she couldn't imagine being bored by anything he said. Even if she wasn't interested in the topic, she would love to listen to his voice for hours on end.

"I'm sorry that I was so horrible to you when you were trying to help me," she blurted.

He looked down, the flash of irritation returning for a moment.

"I care about you, Ginny. I can't warn you enough about how dangerous it is for you to be here."

"I understand, but it's more dangerous for so many others if I'm not. He's made that quite clear."

"It doesn't mean I agree with it and it certainly doesn't mean I have to like any part of it," he said flatly. She took in his expression, trying to discern what he was feeling. He'd talked more about himself today than he had in months and it made her feel closer to him. Now, he'd closed off again, although she didn't miss that there was an intensity to his gaze as he spoke those last words.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ -

Their talk on Friday gave Ginny the strength she needed to get through another weekend. Fortunately, there were no more surprises during the weekend social events. She behaved as was expected of her, making her corrected attitude an obvious topic during the evening conversation. She didn't know how she would have endured it if she didn't have the good thoughts of Draco to bolster her spirits.

With the weekend behind her, she found herself looking forward to the week ahead. Her search through Narcissa's notes had allowed her to determine that Draco's birthday fell on Tuesday, giving her something that she could truly look forward to.

She made what preparations she could, sneaking away in the mornings to transfigure some simple decorations, and ordering the house elves aside so she could use the kitchen.

On Tuesday afternoon, she waited alongside the beautifully maintained riding arena enjoying her favorite activity, watching Draco. Today, he had his youngest charge on a long lead line, working on the youngster's lunging.

Somewhere during the course of the excersize, Draco had removed his shirt and she found the view more than enjoyable as man and horse were both working up a healthy sweat. She sighed and forced the errant thought out of her head.

She settled herself on a low fence, continuing to observe. It was always a treat for her, not only because of her attraction to the man but also because of his passion for his craft. Not that she'd seen many people work with horses, but because she'd seen people who were good at other crafts, people who, over time, had become comfortable, one might even say intimately familiar with their chosen trade, be it potions or Quidditch or art. There was a difference between someone who was merely extremely good and someone who might be called a master. Draco clearly fell into the latter category.

She decided that one never tires of admiring the beauty of watching a master at his craft.

And today was his birthday.

He finished with the young animal, working to properly cool it down and send it back to the pasture with its mother. While he was gone, she eagerly ran to get the gift she'd made for him that morning.

By the time he returned to the cool confines of the carriage house, she had streamers hung haphazardly about the place and the candles lit on a slightly sloppy-looking cake.

He came in, looked at the the meager decorations and cake as she squeaked "Surprise!". He stopped, first looking shocked. Then, she watched as the shocked expression slowly melted into a delighted grin.

Ginny took in his face, covered with sweat and a bit of dirt, his normally perfect hair not yet restored to its proper place, his shirt, now back on, but damp from the warmth of the day and his efforts of working outside. She thought she'd never seen a man look more handsome.

Seeing his smile, she jumped, clapping her hands in glee. Her bright yellow sun dress bouncing dangerously near the twenty-one candles lighting the cake on the short table next to her.

He rushed forward and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her away from the flames.

"I'd best blow that out before you set fire to the whole place," he chided. He kissed her warmly on the cheek and found himself keeping hold of her far longer than was necessary.

Moments like that seemed to be getting more and more frequent since they'd unleashed the swamp all those weeks ago. Neither would acknowledge that, at least not aloud.

The yellow cake was carved and Ginny allocated a piece for each of them, horses included. The two moved to the tack room of the carriage house to enjoy the confection and each other's company.

The room had become Ginny's favorite place on the estate. The stables were always immaculately clean, courtesy of the house elves, so it hardly felt as if the room was part of a stable. It served as a combined office and living space, with two couches, a desk and table. One wall decorated with an array of impeccably maintained saddles and harnesses. It smelled of polished leather and a hint of clean hay.

"I've been wondering something..." Ginny finally said, wiping crumbs from the side of her mouth.

"There are plenty of things in the world to wonder about," he replied.

She looked at him in mock annoyance and continued, "Where do you go every weekend?"

"I can't tell you."

His response was spoken so shortly that it took her by surprise. She immediately looked contrite, as their argument last week was still on her mind. "I'm sorry. I understand if you don't want to tell me."

"It's not that, Ginny," he said looking contrite, but he didn't continue, falling into his usual silence. If she was going to get information from him, she realized that she would have to pry.

"I mean if you have a girlfriend..." she started to say.

He looked away, almost appearing to be embarrassed. "No, no girlfriend," he said quickly, looking at her with what she thought was a mild alarm. She could only stare at him, hoping it would entice him to explain. Fortunately, he seemed to wither under her intense gaze. "I mean, I thought there might be one, for a short time, but it didn't work out."

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said, although a rather unrealistically selfish part of her was glad to hear that a girl wasn't involved.

He smiled at her expression and decided to tease her a bit, "Not jealous, are you, Weasley?"

She loved it when he called her "Weasley". It made her feel like her old self, even if, at one time, it might have been an insult. Now, it was comfortable.

"Apparently, there's nothing to be jealous of," she smiled. "Though, I must admit that I'm surprised. I always thought you were quite popular with the girls when we were in school."

"Can we not talk about that?" he said slightly sharply. He looked away again. She found it hard to believe him to be shy, he'd always seemed such a brash, egotistical git in school. She found this side of him endearing.

"You're shy!" she teased.

"I most certainly am not!"

She laughed as the accusation suddenly brought out a burst of the old, temperamental schoolboy she'd known.

"Care to talk about your old boyfriends, Weasley?" he said, accusingly, apparently deciding that a counter attack was his best course of action.

She immediately stopped laughing and found herself blushing a deep shade of red as she looked away.

"Ha!" he said in his best superior tone. She decided her best response was to childishly stick her tongue out at him.

They laughed and decided that it was best to drop the subject, instead chatting amiably about inconsequential things. The sun was sinking low in the sky and, all too quickly, their happy afternoon had to come to an end. As they got up, she looked longingly back at their little tack room. She hated to leave and go back to the house.

Noticing her forlorn gaze, he stood and took her hand, giving her the strength to turn away from the room and begin the walk back toward the house. She looked up, thankfully, meeting his gaze and feeling her heart flutter ever so softly as she saw the caring look in his eyes. She chastised herself, and mentally told herself that she really had to stop that, but before she could look away, he spoke.

"Thank you for a wonderful birthday," he said, leaning down to give her a brief, gentle kiss on the lips.

The slight flutter in her heart suddenly turned into a maddened pounding as he pulled away.

--

Reviews, please.

I ask so little of you for all my hard work, so please just let me know what you think. Thank you in advance.


	9. Chapter 9 Daydreams and Fantasy

A/N – For those who have difficulty with the Lucius/Ginny interaction. I strongly recommend that you skip the **first** part of the chapter and go to the section after the OoOoOoO's. And I remind you all that this is an M rated chapter. Please, no readers under 16. Thx.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

She followed her husband into the bedroom with the usual amount of dread that came with her evenings. During the days, she could forget about this part, even come to have some degree of peace in her life there, but each night, she was reminded of her true purpose for living in the manor. Tonight was no exception.

Burned into her mind was the look on Draco's face as they left after dinner. Ever since his birthday almost two weeks ago, she had seen Draco's disgust and hatred of his father becoming increasingly noticeable. Every evening, when Lucius made a motion for them to retire for the evening, she caught Draco's stormy eyes flash with something indescribable. And it was clearly getting worse, as it seemed that his feelings on the matter were becoming more difficult to hide. She would have to speak to him about it tomorrow. It was dangerous for him to be so transparent.

She dropped her nightgown and stood naked before her husband. He liked that, to be able to look at her before she dutifully went to work, kissing and caressing his body.

They never kissed on the mouth in the bedroom, that act was reserved for public occasions, when he wished to display her as his possession. There was no love between them and neither seemed to miss the display of affection.

As she ran her hands over his chest, she couldn't help but think of how similar in build he was to his son, although his son was a bit broader from her observations, and her thoughts immediately moved to Draco, picturing him without his shirt as he worked in the sunlight.

The thought made her smile and caused a delightful sensation to flutter in her stomach. She held the thought, as she had done every night for the last two months, and let her mind wander, imagining that it was the son's body that she was trying to please. When she closed her eyes, even though his touch was rough, she imagined that it was the younger man who was with her.

By the time he took her, she was wet and ready for him, making the act of sex, if not exactly pleasant, at least not painful. She decided that, if she needed to live her life in this manner, at least using the fantasy made it more tolerable.

OoOoOoOoO

Lucius had finished with her for the night, sending her away and falling asleep before she had even gathered her things to leave the room.

She felt dirty and disgusted. What she'd degraded herself to, she could hardly comprehend. It had made it easier, thinking lewd thoughts of Draco while she was in the arms of her husband. It was so much easier because at least she could pretend that she was willing, making her body more responsive. It was horrible of her, but it was so much less painful this way.

She wasn't quite ready to go to sleep, her head still filled with disturbing thoughts of her husband mixed with confusing feelings for his son. She took a quick bath, although nothing seemed to wash filth of her husband's touch from her memory. At least tonight, there hadn't been a beating. Actually, there hadn't been any since she'd started using her horrible tactic of daydreaming about Draco.

Wrapping a dressing gown over herself, she wandered outside her rooms, past the guest room that she'd shared with Draco after her injury. She decided to head downstairs, thinking that perhaps a cup of tea would help her calm her thoughts so she could sleep.

She'd barely touched her bare foot on the top stair, when she heard a door open behind her. Jumping nervously at the sound, she turned to look, hoping it was not Lucius, as she'd had quite enough of his company for the evening. To her relief, she saw Draco standing in the hallway, looking ruffled and tired.

He stood with his hand on his door, frozen in place as he stared at her and once again she found herself being caught up in her attraction to him. His eyes were bright and looking sharply at her, his hair was tousled, his robe was loosely tied, so she could see his chest partially revealed.

He looked like an angel. Her angel.

The question in his eyes spurred her to explain. "I couldn't sleep...thought some tea might help," she said quietly motioning toward the stairs that she was about to go down. "I take it you couldn't sleep either?"

He nodded and silently walked over to her. He was standing close, too close for her to feel comfortable, considering her recent thoughts about him.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you in there, with him. Are you all right?"

It was a horribly uncomfortable topic and she tried to answer as tactfully as possible. "It wasn't bad tonight I seemed to have found some ways to cope with it," she said quietly.

He nodded, looking uncomfortable with the conversation. Suddenly his expression changed to anger and he looked away. "You shouldn't have to i_cope/i_ with it," he responded angrily.

"Draco, we shouldn't be having this conversation right now. Not here. He might overhear something."

He took hold of her elbow and guided her back into his room, closing the door behind them. "Then we'll talk in here."

"Draco, please, we've gone over this. Talking about it won't change anything," she said, somewhat indignantly. In her rather depressed mood at the moment, she really didn't have the will to argue with him about why she refused to leave.

"Then let's stop talking and do something. I want to get you out of here, Ginny."

Seeing the despair in her eyes as he spoke those words made him feel like he might go mad, "I want you out. Your family wants you out. Let me get you past the wards. Please."

He looked so very earnestly at her that she could hardly stand it. "I...I can't!" Her eyes were now wet with tears. "Where could I possibly go? Even if my family was willing to go into hiding again, we couldn't live that way forever. And you know, he'll never stop looking for me. He'll hurt innocent people to draw me out. You know this!"

He was pacing now, one hand running through his tousled hair, looking alternately lost in thought, frustrated and angry.

"We could stage something. Make him think something happened to you..."

She walked up to him, stopping his pacing by placing both her hands on his shoulders. He halted, looking straight into her eyes. She didn't know how to make him realize the truth, though she knew that he did, he just didn't want to accept it.

Her hands moved from his shoulders to his face, gently cupping his cheeks in her small hands. She didn't know what to say to him, so she simply looked at him, willing him to understand.

Slowly he reached up, taking her hands and moving them down, away from his face. He was looking intently at her now and she found it impossible to break contact with his gaze.

"How can I let it go, Ginny, when I love you so Goddamn much," he said.

She released a small gasp in response to his admission then stood for a long moment in shock as she processed his words, her mouth slightly open. She'd known he cared for her, they'd become friends over the last few months, but this was almost beyond her comprehension. The mix of feelings that overcame her as she began to comprehend his meaning was almost heartbreaking.

She felt simultaneously thrilled and devastated.

And then, before she was able to fully come to terms with her feelings about his words, he leaned in and kissed her.

He'd kissed her two weeks ago, on his birthday, and it had been soft and sweet. She'd lingered on the memory of that kiss every day since, but this was something entirely different. His mouth was still soft and gentle against hers but the underlying passion that she felt this time made her entire body go completely weak with emotion. She promptly lost any ability to fight the desire she had felt for him, as the realization that he might actually feel something of the same completely overwhelmed her.

On impulse, she wrapped her arms around his neck, accepting his kiss, taking him by surprise with her desperate enthusiasm, as she immediately began to weave her fingers through his hair, finally satisfying her curiosity that it was as soft and fine as it looked. He needed little encouragement to match her, wrapping his arms around her to pull her closer, reveling in the feeling of her soft curves of her back through the thin material of her dressing gown.

The feeling of his hands moving along her side and back made her feel more confident. She released her grip on him only long enough to loosen the tie of her dressing gown, shrugging it off her shoulders. She wasn't disappointed with his response, as his intake of breath indicated his approval. He broke the kiss only long enough to take in the sight of her in her thin nightdress before kissing her again, slowly moving the sensual kiss to her neck. The slow deliberate perusal of his mouth on her neck made her give an involuntary shiver of desire, and she felt a compulsive need to see more of him.

When she reached for the tie of his robe, he stopped his ministrations to look at her in wonder as she moved the moved the material away from his shoulders. She stopped as the material fell away from him, her hands resting on his bare shoulders.

The moment felt surreal. She felt almost as if she was drugged or in a dream as she took in the beauty of him, her gaze drawn to his eyes. She reached up to cup his cheek, gently, drawn in by the sight of raw emotion in his expression. Her heart clenched in response.

She broke the eye contact first, moving to stare at her hands as they moved back to his shoulders almost of their own volition. He stood frozen under her touch, and she was quite afraid that, if he moved, she would bolt from the room and never speak to him again out of sheer embarrassment. But he didn't move, he simply watched her as she looked at him, moving her hand from his shoulder, tracing the muscular lines then to his collarbone and chest, and eventually moving down to the firm lines of his stomach.

At that moment, she was suddenly overcome by a moment of panic. She continued to stare at his chest, but now blankly, as if her mind couldn't quite come to terms with where she was and what she was doing, worse, she found herself completely at a loss on what she should do next. She bit her lip, as she felt herself begin to blush furiously.

He reached a hand under her chin, guiding her to look back up at him. Her eyes were wide, showing her uncertainty, afraid he'd be angry at her. He smiled gently. "It's alright, Ginny."

She wasn't sure what he meant by that, if he was giving her permission to continue, or run from the room. It didn't matter. He leaned in to give her another soft kiss, apparently intending it to simply be a short kiss to reassure her. Unfortunately, the softness of his lips called too strongly to her and she became lost in a mad swirl of feelings that she couldn't fully identify. She once again wrapped her arms around him, reigniting the passion that had overcome them previously.

After several long minutes, he swept her up in his arms, carrying her to the bed. They continued to snog for what seemed like an eternity, her hands caressing his bare torso at will. The feel of him was addictive, as his hands roamed along her sides in gentle caresses. He seemed to be restrained in his movements, and Ginny once again felt an urge to feel more of him. Running her hands along his back, she slipped them lower, under the waistband of his pajama pants. His bum was delightfully round from his athletic lifestyle and she suddenly felt an impish desire tease him further, slipping her hand from his bum around to the front.

He pulled away from the homage he'd been paying to her neck and looked at her, his eyes silently questioning. She gave him a gentle smile in response, as she gave his pants a slight tug downward. He groaned.

She was barely aware of stripping away her nightdress, as she was far too preoccupied with the feel of hands moving gently over her skin. His lovemaking was just as sweet and tender as she'd imagined it would be, in fact, it was more than she'd imagined.

After he'd kissed and caressed every part of her, he finally moved over her, cradled in her intimate embrace. Resting on his elbow, he moved his other hand to brush a stray lock of hair from her face as he looked into her eyes in silent question. She kissed him, pulling him closer in response. As he entered her body, she had the distinct feeling that she was being worshiped.

- ~ - ~ - ~ -

After, they lay together wrapped in each other's arms, each lost in their own thoughts. Neither wanting to break the silence, afraid of ending the moment that had just happened between them.

Draco held her closely, his arms around her, her head tucked onto his shoulder, the mass of soft red waves splayed out over his chest. He looked up at the ceiling, trying to comprehend the magnitude of what they'd just done. Absently, he began to trace his fingers over her arms and shoulders, marveling at the smoothness of her. He wanted to remember every last detail, not knowing when they might be together like this again, if ever.

His observation suddenly led him to notice that his shoulder was becoming wet. She was crying.

The realization pulled him abruptly from his own selfish thoughts. Turning more on his side toward her, he brushed her hair back to see her face in the dim light. His action causing her to hide her face by turning further into his shoulder, making him unsure of what to do.

"Ginny... oh girl, please don't cry."

She sniffed ever so quietly and snuggled her body closer to his, not responding to his words. He could only assume that it was in shame.

He moved to hold her closer, stroking her hair gently, hoping that the action was soothing. She was troubled and he could understand why. She needed friendship, not another person who only intended to use her. He was now certain that he'd fallen into the latter category and that made him feel like a monster.

Once again turning to her, he lifted her face gently and began to brush the tears from her cheeks, forcing himself not to kiss her again. She didn't look up at him, only making him feel worse for his actions.

"God, Ginny, I am so, so sorry. We shouldn't have... I shouldn't have..." then, suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of self-loathing, his voice became bitter, "I'm no better than he is."

The words immediately snapped her out of her silent tears, as she looked at him with an intense determination. Her hand shot out to stop him from pulling away. "Don't you dare say anything like that. Ever," she commanded firmly.

He was slightly surprised by the strength behind her statement. But he still felt that he was horribly guilty. He continued to pull away.

"You don't need this kind of complication, Ginny."

Her grip on his arm tightened, willing him not to move further away from her. Her eyes expressing an almost desperate plea as she spoke. "It's not your fault. And I'm not crying over this," she motioned between them. "It's just that..." she seemed to be looking for the right words. "It's just that it's been months since anyone has..." she paused again, looking uncertain, "...since anyone has touched me like that. I didn't realize how much I...I needed you."

An expression of surprise mixed with relief crossed his features as he enveloped her in his arms once again. "Still, I was wrong to allow this to happen," he said.

She curled up closer to him, wrapping her arm around his body and tucking her head into his shoulder but not looking up at him as she spoke, "It wasn't wrong, Draco. If anything, I felt more human in the last few hours than I have since I set foot in this house. I don't regret it and I don't want you to regret it either."

A long stretch of silence fell between them as he once again relaxed at the feel of her tucked safely in his arms. He enjoyed the contact, pulling her soft body closer, toying with her hair. He was once again becoming aroused but wanted very much to control himself. They'd already made a horrible mistake and he didn't want to compound it.

She finally pulled away, laying a hand gently on his arm as she explained, "I'd better get back to my room, before I'm missed."

He didn't miss the shakiness in her voice. She dreaded going back. He could tell. She moved quickly, not looking back at him as she pulled on her clothing.

There was no going back to simple friendship after this, not from his point of view. He had to make sure that she knew that. He had to make sure that she understood that he wasn't using her. Getting out of the bed, he followed her to the door, placing his hand over hers on the doorknob. She didn't turn to look at him, her expression almost fearful, which made him cringe. Instead, she stared at the floor as he spoke.

"This only goes as far as you want it, Ginny. I just want you to know that I'm here for you, regardless of whatever you decide. I'm your friend first and foremost, you understand?"

She shyly looked up at him, taking in his body, his face, his tousled hair, finally looking directly into his slate gray eyes. She nodded, giving him a small smile but said nothing, then turned to quietly leave the room.

When the door closed behind her, he stared at it for a long moment. Finally, he gave long, exhausted sigh. Walking back to his bed, he threw himself onto the soft blankets and stared blankly up at the ceiling, knowing that sleep would evade him for the rest of the night.

---

Remember... I work for reviews. Please be nice and click the little button. It's rude not to. *pout*


	10. Chapter 10 Facing the Morning After

A/N – this is a bit of a transitional chapter. So the pace slows a bit while some things are explained.

It was the single most difficult chapter to write, and I'm not thrilled with it, but I didn't want to hold up the rest of the story over this. So, please bear with me. Much more interesting stuff is coming up shortly.

- - - -

It took the elf at least three attempts to rouse her from sleep before she finally woke the next morning. What little sleep she'd been able to manage had been fitful and filled with dreams, making her unwilling to get out of bed one moment sooner than absolutely necessary. Waking meant that she would once again have to face the reality of her life, and the thought of that was more unbearable than usual.

When she finally did crawl out of her haven, she found herself feeling exhausted from lack of sleep aside from feeling slightly confused and worried.

Her dreams had been filled with images from her fantasies of late and part of her couldn't help but wonder if she'd allowed some of those fantasies to go just a bit too far. Part of her even hoped that what she remembered had been, in fact, only an incredibly livid dream. The idea left her then coming to the next logical conclusion that, if indeed she'd somehow been unable to disseminate reality from fantasy, then it was entirely likely that she was possibly going insane.

Oddly enough, she welcomed the idea of insanity. If the events she remembered had only been an incredibly livid dream, she wouldn't mind if she lost all touch with reality and looked forward the the day she might be fully committed to a life in St. Mungo's.

She suddenly envisioned herself, locked away somewhere in St. Mungo's, unaware of the world around her, because she retreated into a world of her own making. The thought caused her to let out a slightly deranged giggle, giving the house elf who was preparing her morning bath reason to look at her oddly.

In a way, insanity was far more preferable to having to face the consequences of her actions.

The only thing that was certain at the moment was that she was clearly sleep-deprived. After showering and dressing, she sat at her makeup table and stared into the looking glass, only to see a zombie-like version of herself looking back. Her skin was pale, and the dark circles under her eyes made her look to be much older than her years. She'd lost weight during the few months of her imprisonment as well, making her cheeks appear just a bit too hallow.

Barely four months had passed and she barely recognized herself. Dressed in the finest of clothing, behaving like a meek, subservient wife, attending parties with Death Eaters and doing nothing to fight them, oh, and she couldn't forget the detail of being a whore. She was finally looking as sickly on the outside as she felt on the inside.

With a heavy sigh, she readied herself to endure another day. Wandering back into the bath she faced the mirror and used a number of glamour charms to minimize the dark circles under her eyes, staring sadly at her wand after she finished.

She hardly ever used it for anything other than glamour charms and gardening anymore. All her years of schooling seemed to have gone completely to waste. She couldn't even use it to defend herself against Lucius, as they were both bound by the terms of their contract to not use their wands against each other in any way.

Thinking once again of the hateful contract, Ginny came to the conclusion that there was good reason r that such legal agreements were best left to experienced solicitors. It had been foolish of her to think that she would have been capable enough with her informal studies to cover everything in the agreement. She'd completely overlooked the fact that, while he wouldn't use magic against her, it meant nothing as far as physical abuse. In addition, she wasn't certain that the agreement didn't have loopholes for other Death Eaters to possibly harm her in some other way.

She immediately moved to the thought of how different Draco was from his father now. How he'd changed from the boy who'd blindly adored and emulated his father while he'd attended Hogwarts. Unfortunately, thoughts of him led her to once again feel a warm fluttering in her abdomen and forced an unbidden blush to her cheeks.

Hurriedly, she finished dressing and proceeded downstairs. As she seated herself at the breakfast table, she found herself wondering about how she was going to face Draco with her amorous thoughts being so close to the forefront of her mind. Fortunately, he wasn't at breakfast, which wasn't entirely unusual. Lucius never seemed to care about whether or not his son chose to join them for that meal, as he normally was more focused on his newspaper and instructing Ginny on her responsibilities for the day.

If Lucius noticed the unusually pink coloring on her face, he made no mention of it. In fact, he merely sat and began his breakfast as usual. He looked up after scanning the headlines in the Prophet, interrupting her thoughts abruptly.

"It will be our turn to host the dinner party for the Ministry this month," he stated with no preamble.

She almost dropped the piece of toast she'd been about to consume at his words. "A dinner party?"

"Yes, one like was held at the McNair's last month. Nothing too large, only twenty or so guests."

She tried to keep from stuttering her response. In a way, the conversation was a godsend, since it completely pulled her from her previous thoughts. However, she immediately began to worry about actually planning one of the pompous functions. "Oh."

"Is there a problem, Ginevra?"

The stray thought of poisoning all her guests briefly crossed her mind, as she'd thought of it often enough, but she pushed it aside in favor of more appropriate conversation. "No. Not exactly. It's just that I've never been involved with planning anything like this. I'm sure that you would want the evening to be flawless."

He nodded in agreement, almost approvingly. "I give you permission to Floo my assistant at the Ministry, if you require anything in your endeavor," he responded.

She nodded in acknowledgment, hoping she wouldn't need to contact the woman who worked for her husband. Drusilla Yaxley was a rather disagreeable sort, whom she'd met at one of the Saturday parties that she'd attended. She was an older witch, with wavy brown hair and a cold, calculating expression in her eyes. Her husband was ambitious, and looked to be the sort who would murder his own mother if it was convenient for his plans. The Yaxleys' loyalty to Lucius clearly extended only as far as Lucius' favor with Voldemort. Ginny dearly hoped to do everything in her power to avoid being indebted to the the couple for even the smallest of favors, but she didn't voice her thoughts.

Bidding her husband goodbye, she decided to retreat to her parlor, intending to start her task by looking through Narcissa's ledgers for items that she normally paid for after similar events. She would, of course, consult Draco as well, although she hoped that, by that time, she would have found a cure for her incessant fantasies.

She never made it to her parlor. As she turned to make her way down the long hallway, the object of her thoughts appeared directly in her path without warning, causing her to nearly crash into him. Stopping quickly, she lost her balance and he quickly reached out a hand to steady her.

"Oh..." was all she seemed capable of saying, jumping at the unexpected contact.

However, his hand on her waist failed to move away, even after she was no longer in danger of falling. Quite the contrary, his other hand had moved to hold her more firmly, the contact causing her to tremble with anticipation as she looked up at him.

"Sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to startle you."

His smile was so very warm and tempting. She found herself fighting to keep from throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. Instead, she could only look up at him and blush.

One of his hands moved from her waist and he brought it up to the side of her face, his thumb caressing her cheek. She felt her chest tighten as she gasped in a mixture of confusion and pleasure. All self-control deserted her as slosed her eyes and leaned into his hand.

"I missed you after you left," he said.

Her eyes snapped open in fear as she looked up at him. "It wasn't a dream?"

He gave a short, low laugh, "What?"

Worried that she might have said the wrong thing, she tried to come up with an excuse. "Ummm..." was all that started to come out of her mouth as she stalled for time.

"You thought you were dreaming?" he said, rapidly releasing her and taking a step back.

She stopped herself from saying anything else along such lines by covering her mouth with her hand. Of course, she was fully aware that she hadn't been dreaming, but she'd hoped. He'd been right, she didn't need this kind of complication, and now had no idea of how to deal with the repercussions of her rash, desperate action.

Her hesitation was immediately noticed by Draco, as she saw his playful expression quickly vanish, replaced by a brief look of shock before hiding his feelings behind his typical mask of indifference. She'd hurt him, and it was the last thing she'd wanted to do, but she was still in the process of sorting out her own feelings on the matter and found herself completely unprepared for responding to his reaction.

"You do regret it," he said, taking another step back. "Ginny, I am so sorry." He took another step back, looking very much like he was ready to run away from her.

She knew him well enough to know that if he retreated from her now, thinking that he'd hurt her in some way, she wouldn't see him probably for days. She practically jumped forward to grab at his arm before he could bolt. "No!" she said. Unfortunately, she had no other words at the moment. She'd been completely unprepared for this meeting, and now it had gone entirely wrong.

He stopped and turned back to her, looking just as confused as she had felt earlier that day. They stared at each other, both feeling more than a bit awkward, and each apparently at an equal loss for words. She rapidly tried to come to terms with the fact that her memory hadn't been a dream and, in fact, she'd spent much of the previous night making love to the handsome young man.

"I thought it was too wonderful to be real," she said, her voice sounding small, barely above a whisper.

He moved back toward her, his eyes dark and serious as he once again wrapped his arms around her. He didn't say anything. He simply leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers, softly at first. Then, when he was certain she wouldn't pull away, he deepened it, letting her know the depth of his passion.

She sighed softly as she returned the kiss, hoping he understood that she truly did welcome his touch. Finally, after several minutes, he pulled away. "It was very real," he said quietly and released his hold on her. "I meant what I said, Ginny. Whatever is between us, it's your decision. I don't want to pressure you."

As soon as he stepped away, she missed the warm feeling of his embrace, and the look in his eyes was so intent after he spoke that she felt her heart leap in her chest.

She nodded. "I understand. I just... I just don't know what exactly to think right now."

It was true. She wanted him. She wanted to be near him and so much more, but the fear and confusion about how a relationship with him would only complicate her life was now weighing on her heavily, completely overriding the feelings that had drawn her to him.

He looked sad, but nodded in understanding. "You know where to find me if you need me," he said quietly, turning and walking away to leave her to her thoughts. She watched him go, feeling torn about following, as she tried to sort out the barrage of thoughts and feelings going through her mind.

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ -

She found herself drifting around the manor for the rest of the morning, trying to concentrate on her typical tasks but she was incredibly unsuccessful. Every few moments, memories of the previous evening came unbidden to the forefront of her thoughts.

She had no idea what to do. By lunch, she could barely manage sitting still, having spent the entire morning completely preoccupied with her dilemma, yet no closer to any sort of conclusion than when she first awoke.

She finished the bare minimum of her tasks and stormed outside, eager to release her pent up energy in any way possible. At first she merely wandered across the grounds, hoping that a good walk would clear her head. But after a half hour and no success, she turned to the only place on the estate that ever seemed to offer her any real peace.

As she entered the carriage house, she found him sitting on the couch in the tack room, his feet propped up on a trunk, reading. Hearing her enter, he looked up from his book, a lock of hair falling carelessly into his eyes and all the words that she had prepared to speak abruptly abandoned her.

He slowly put his feet down and placed the book aside, his expression guarded as he stood to face her. She couldn't blame him for his worried expression, she was shaking with emotion that she couldn't quite place.

The fact that he just stood there, waiting for her to speak didn't help her at all.

Her breathing was sharp and shallow. She wanted to shout but had no idea what she wanted to say so she stood there, staring at him, her eyes wild with barely contained frustration.

"Are you alright?" he finally asked, as his expression showing concern when he recognized her state of distress.

Standing there, facing him after coming to terms with their actions made her shake. As she finally began to sort out her emotions, she came to fully realize that an entirely different emotion clearly overshadowed all the fear and confusion that she'd been battling with all morning.

He took three long strides toward her and, without thinking, she took a step back. She didn't miss the look of hurt in his eyes but she couldn't allow herself to react to him just yet. The emotions building within her were nearly all consuming. Crossing her arms protectively in front of herself in a self-hugging gesture, she looked down and away from him as her thoughts burned through her mind.

He started to reach for her again, thinking that perhaps she was crying, but then, her hands moved down, both clenched into fists. When she looked up again, he saw that her face was hard with anger.

He moved back, immediately assuming that her anger was directed at him.

"I don't know what to do next!" she said, her voice full of frustration. She looked away from him and then reached her hands into her hair, pulling on it as her gaze darted wildly around the room, her pent up frustration evident in her every movement.

"I'm so angry, Draco," she said, her voice harsh and ragged from emotion. "...and the worst part is that I'm not sure what I'm angry about."

Realizing that it was likely in his best interest to not interrupt, he stepped back and watched as she vented what was likely months of pent up fury. She appeared ready to strike out at anything.

"First, there's my life..." she said harshly, not looking at him. "All I can think of is all the things that I can never have, and I hate myself for getting into this situation in the first place."

She then began pacing back and forth in front of him, in short steps, as if she couldn't decide which direction she needed to go. "Or, maybe, I'm angry with my brothers, for having been stupid enough to force me into being here in the first place. Then, of course, there's Lucius, who makes every day just so special in his own way," the sarcasm simply dripped from her voice as she stated that last.

She turned suddenly and kicked the door causing it to swing closed with a thundering slam. She gave a short yowl in pain, as her flimsy dress shoes were no match for the force of her kick. Then began to hop about, cursing colorfully. Draco found himself torn between concern and a mild form of amusement, as he'd never quite seen such an amazing display of temper. He found that it rather suited her.

Draco moved forward to assist, but she stopped him with the force of her still angry gaze. She continued rubbing her foot, then began to hobble back and forth as she continued to rant incoherently, causing Draco to subconsciously keep his distance for his own safety.

Then she stopped, looked squarely at him and continued, "And then there's you."

"Me?" he repeated, his voice going up an octave. In all truth, he had been expecting her to possibly be angry with him, but he somehow didn't expect to find that he was among those on the prestigious list of total wankers she'd just named. And, he became uncomfortably aware of the fact that he was the only one on said list who was currently within striking distance of the angry witch.

"Yes, you," she said, the absurdity of the words, causing her to calm significantly. She leaned against the door frame, rubbing her injured foot. "For being so nice."

He looked at her, fully aware that he likely looked like an idiot because he didn't even attempt to keep his mouth from hanging open in shock at her words.

"You're angry with me for being nice," he stated, not bothering to hide his confusion.

She took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, allowing some of her anger to release.

"No, not exactly," she said, almost in defeat. She wasn't truly angry with him, although there was no denying that she was angry at her situation. Taking it out on him simply because he was her only outlet was just a bit unfair, she realized. "But what I don't understand is why you are so nice."

He attempted to give her his most innocent look, hoping it would appease her. "I happen to like you, Weasley."

"You were a right git in school, as I remember. And now... now you are like an entirely different person. I never pressed you about why, but I think I deserve to know more now."

He rubbed a hand over his head, mussing his hair as he looked at her, obviously trying to decide how to answer. Finally, he moved back to the sofa, and patted the seat beside her, silently asking her to sit. She gave a weary sigh, and limped over to the spot, complying with his request.

He looked down, releasing a deep breath before he spoke. "How do you know that I wasn't always like I am with you?"

She looked at him in disbelief, making him give a small half-smile in return. He continued before she had a chance to chastise him for his apparently facetious question. "The person I was at Hogwarts..." he started, pausing as if to consider his words. "I'm not sure I know how to say this."

She tried to appear more understanding, the last of her anger ebbing away as she saw the difficulty that he seemed to be having with his words. It appeared as if it was far from a simple answer to her question.

After a long moment, he finally asked, "When you are with my father, or the others, you behave differently. You hide who you really are, correct?"

"Well, yes, I suppose," she replied, not understanding his change in the subject.

"But it's not you. It's not your personality."

She shook her head.

"I hate it when you act that way, by the way," he said, a hint of teasing, mixed with a bit of anger in his tone. "But, you know that you have to behave like that in front of them, because that's what is expected of you. Am I right?"

Her shoulders sagged as she thought about how much she hated putting on the act of being Lucius' wife. It was true. She nodded, unwilling to voice the admission aloud.

"Can you imagine how I would have been able to survive in Slytherin if the others had any hint of what I'm like around Barnabas, if they knew I was anything other than arrogant and superior?"

"But you seemed to love being a Slytherin..." she interjected.

"Yes, and I'm not denying for even a moment that I hated Mudbloods and truly thought of myself as being superior to the rest of you in every way."

She looked at him in confusion. "I don't understand, then."

"I always had a quiet side as well, especially when I was young, but only my mother was privileged enough to see that. She and I spent time out here while my father was away during the days, and it was the happiest time of my life."

He leaned forward, staring down at his hands as he apparently became lost in the memory as he continued to speak. "I adored my father, and wanted to be like him, so I suppressed that part of my personality around him because he would have disapproved. I was subconsciously practicing a form of Occlumency, although I wasn't aware of it at the time. Its a way of compartmentalizing oneself, so that others see what you need them to see, while you keep your real feelings locked away."

He looked over at her to see if she seemed to understand. "To place part of yourself aside like that, and lock it away...," he said, sidetracking slightly. "I'd gotten so good at hiding parts of myself that, at one point, I'd all but forgotten who I really was."

She thought back to Hogwarts and wondered if he had been aware of the tactic at that time. It was hard to believe that the boy she'd known then had any empathy whatsoever, but she chose to believe him, simply because she wanted to.

"So what brought you back?" she asked.

He gave a defeated sigh and buried his face in his hands, as if not wanting to face the thought of what he was about to say. "The day I found out I couldn't be a Death Eater. The day I discovered that I could never kill a person in cold blood, no matter how much my father or the Dark Lord wanted me to."

She'd wondered about this for such a long time, but it had always been a topic that they'd avoided. She felt a small amount of guilt for pressing the matter, but she needed to know the full story of what had happened, not only to satisfy her curiosity, but to help unravel the mystery of what had happened to Narcissa, if only for her own safety and sanity.

"That was when your father disowned you?"

"Not quite," he said sadly. "They gave me other assignments, other 'opportunities' to overcome what they thought was fear. I failed several times before they realized that I was never going to be as dedicated as my father."

The look on his face turned impossibly sad. "All during my childhood, my father only wanted our family to be well-established. He thought that, since the Dark Lord was going to be in power, that it only made sense for us to follow. He really thought that the ideals that Voldemort preached were the right way for our society. We all believed that. Then, when the Dark Lord came into power, things changed. I don't think anyone understood how much Voldemort demanded of his followers in return for his favor."

"Draco, I don't quite follow what you say. Lucius is absolutely fanatical about everything Voldemort says."

He drew in a ragged breath, as if it hurt to speak. "He changed when he had to kill my mother."

"So, the rumors are true," she said, her mouth dropping open with surprise. "But I thought you said they loved each other?"

"Voldemort gave him the choice to kill her or me, or he'd kill the both of us himself. Occlumency only works for a short while with the Dark Lord, as you probably know, and he'd found out about how my mother and I were embarrassingly weak, as they say. He blamed my mother for my flaws. She practically begged my father to kill her instead of me."

Ginny gasped in sympathy, placing her hand on his arm in comfort.

He continued. "When she died, my father changed. He didn't speak for several days. He just walked around the house in shock. I don't think he ate or slept during that entire time. Then, it was as if someone had taken over his body. He started twisting the logic of her death so that it was all her fault. He blamed me as well, and turned into a zealot worshiping the Dark Lord. I couldn't talk to him, and the more I tried, the more he twisted facts to ostracize me."

"He's insane," she stated simply.

"I believe I already told you that."

"But why did you stay?"

Draco shrugged, looking defeated. "He's my father. At first, I'd hoped that I could bring him back. It didn't help that I also had no money and nowhere else to go."

"But you do now... have someplace to go, that is," she said.

He ignored her question. "He's not ready for me to leave yet. And besides," he gave her a small, lopsided smile, "I have a few things here that I'm not ready to give up just yet."

She smiled shyly in return, suddenly reminded of the recent change in their relationship. The thought made her blush. It also made her incredibly uncomfortable. She shifted in her seat, pulling her hand away from him.

"You don't need to be nice to me. I don't know why you are. You should leave, just as soon as you get the chance," she said quietly.

It was now his turn to look at her in confusion, "Why would you say that?"

She shook her head, unwilling to say anything in response.

"What's happened to you Ginny?" he prodded. "When we were in school, you were always so full of fire that you practically lit the room when you walked in."

She gave a heavy sigh, leaning against him more and feeling the tension seep from her body. "I didn't know you'd noticed me back then."

He smiled. "You were hard not to notice. The first day I met you, you threatened me for the sake of defending Potter, and you were just a slip of a thing."

She gave a small chuckle as she recollected the memory. It was hard to believe that she could now look upon that awful incident almost fondly. "I'd hardly call that as my shining moment."

"No," he said, "but you always seemed to know your mind. You always seemed to have a confidence that most others your age lacked. It was...admirable."

A feeling of sadness and loss came over her as she thought of those days in school. It had only been a few short years ago, yet it felt like a lifetime. She felt old, much older than her nineteen years. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not a school girl anymore."

"No," he said softly, "I would have to agree with you," his tone becoming husky as he leaned closer toward her.

She found herself leaning into him, and stopped herself before the physical attraction became too much. She shook her head in a no gesture. It was up to her to stop this.

"Please, I'm not worth your time," she said calmly.

He pulled away enough to look at her, worried by her words. "No," he said just as calmly, "You are worth far more."

She looked up at him, reaching her hand up to caress his cheek and wondering how she'd managed to become so very fond of him over these past few months. "For what? There's no future for anything between us and so much to lose if we're found out. You've become very dear to me and I don't want to risk losing that."

He looked so very saddened by her words, she could only call it a pout. If anything, it made him so much more endearing to her. She needed him to understand. She thought of the image of herself in the mirror that morning, all pale and gaunt. She hated herself. She hated what she was allowing herself to become. If she cared about him, she needed him to understand so that he could move on and leave her to the mess that she'd created for herself.

"I'm nothing but a whore, Draco."

He pulled away, looking shocked, almost wounded by her words. "Because of me?" He shook his head, denying her statement, "Ginny, that's ridiculous."

"No, not just because of last night," she replied. "There are still things you don't know about me."

"What exactly are you saying, then?" he said, sounding just a trifle irritated with her statement.

She leaned forward, burying her face in her hands, not wanting to look at him, but he needed to know the truth about her. If he did, then maybe he'd be willing to hate her enough to end whatever this 'thing' was between them.

"I'm saying that I'd do whatever I need to do to keep my family safe."

"So, you married my father. I'm aware of that," he said bitterly.

And she told him about her night in the village, meeting the muggle, and making certain that she would have at least one night where giving her body was her own choice. As she finished her story, she added, "It's so funny, that, never having done anything like this, within six months I've shared a bed with three different men. I just wanted to let you know why."

A tear dropped down her cheek as she finished speaking, and the silence that stretched between them was almost like a physical wall.

"So, do you think of this Muggle often?" he asked, finally.

She wondered if he was jealous of her memory of the man. In a way she was flattered, but she decided to put him at ease. "I did, at first. He was kind, and I'll always be grateful for that," she explained. "You're father was furious when he found out, of course, but it was worth it."

"Do you remember much about him?"

She shook her head, "No. I could barely see straight, I was so drunk and it was so dark. It doesn't matter. You've replaced him in my thoughts for quite a while."

He nodded and for a long moment seemed lost in thought before he gave a short chuckle, a small smile coming to his face. "This doesn't change the way I feel about you in the least, you understand."


	11. Chapter 11 Decisions

Ginny stared blankly at the floor in front of her, feeling distraught. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, Draco had mentioned his feelings for her, and she found herself experiencing an uncharacteristic loss for words.

She couldn't deny that she had feelings in return for him, but there was a horrible feeling of morality that continued to tug at her conscience. Despite the fact that she held no love whatsoever for her husband, she was married, and having a relationship outside of that marriage was almost unfathomable. She had hoped that by telling him her worst, that the situation would remedy itself and he would find her too flawed to continue whatever they had started.

Their conversation would remain unfinished, however, as the clock in the room began chiming that it was time to dress for the evening dinner. Ginny stared at the clock with more than a small amount of disdain. She rose slowly from the couch, immediately missing the warmth that she felt from being seated near the young man who now dominated her thoughts.

Looking back at him, she couldn't help but notice that Draco's expression seemed to mirror her own feelings of dread. Of course, Ginny always dreaded when Lucius came home from his workday, but now her feelings had multiplied tenfold. The look they exchanged told her, without words, how well they had come to know each other over these past few months. He knew exactly what she was thinking.

After dinner, she would be expected to spend the night with her husband as she had for the past several months. In truth, she wasn't quite sure how she would manage such a feat. While she and Draco had discussed compartmentalizing their feelings and emotions, she wasn't sure she had enough skill yet to hide the fact that something had radically changed.

Standing, she found her footsteps more than a bit shaky as she began walking toward the door.

He was beside her in a moment, and she trembled when he put his arms around her. The action was intended to be comforting, but Ginny found that it only stirred her emotions further. His offer to run away still stood, and everything in his expression and action told her so. She took a deep breath, knowing that it would take all her courage to not accept. His gentle hold on her did little to strengthen her resolve to stay.

She stiffened in his embrace and pulled away, trying not to meet his gaze. "I need to go inside, or I'll be late for dinner," she said, her tone expressing her resignation.

"Ginny..."

"Please, don't. I just need a few minutes to compose myself, or he'll suspect something's amiss. I'm not as experienced as you are at hiding feelings."

He visibly bit back a response, and she was grateful he wasn't about to pressure her again about leaving. Her reasons for remaining were unchanged and she knew he was well aware of that.

She didn't look back as she left for the house, and she tried her best to put all thoughts of her lover out of her mind.

- ~ -

Dinner wasn't quite as awkward as she thought, but it was hardly an easy evening either. While greeting Lucius as he came home was rather uncomfortable, she had been able to blame her nervousness on her chores for the upcoming dinner party. Lucius seemed to appreciate the fact that she was willing to please him, and had actually assured her that her efforts would be adequate.

The evening meal always held a level of formality, allowing Ginny to rely on the structure to slip back into her role as wife, pushing her other thoughts to the back of her mind. Nevertheless, a small part of her continued to worry endlessly about the evening ahead, knowing that she would cringe when Lucius touched her, and no amount of pretending was going to help her hide that.

By the time the meal was served, Ginny had completely lost her appetite, partly hoping that her slow pace of eating would delay the inevitable. By dessert, she thought she might be physically ill.

As the meal was completed, Lucius still seemed unaware of Ginny's rising panic, moving through his routine in typical fashion as master of his manor. With his usual air of command, he rose and began to leave the room, as it was custom for both of them to read in the lounge for a while before retiring. Ginny took a nervous breath, and rose from her seat to join him.

Just as she took his arm, however, Draco cleared his throat, drawing Lucius' cold gaze and stopping Ginny mid-step as she was turning to leave the room.

"You have something to say, Draco?"

Draco rose, looking cool and formal. "Yes, Father."

Ginny had to admire his control, as she could sense nothing in his calm facade. She envied his ability to hide himself so completely, and she found herself working to mimic him to hide her own discomfort, and now, confusion. Draco and Lucius doing anything more than exchanging curt remarks or angry glances was highly unusual.

Lucius merely raised an eyebrow in response, silently inviting his son to continue.

"If I might have a word with you in private..." he said, appearing more formal and polite toward his father than she had ever seen. His tone worried her.

She tensed, waiting for Lucius to respond, as she'd only seen him react to his son with hostility. After a long moment, Lucius replied, almost as courteously, "Come to my study then, and we will talk there."

Lucius then turned to her, and she found herself staring up at her husband in surprise at his willingness to comply with anything Draco requested. Of all the reactions she could have expected, politeness was not among them.

"Return to our rooms, Ginevra," he ordered calmly. "I will join you later."

All she could do was mutely nod. She turned to spare a glance at Draco, but only caught a look of cool indifference before she moved toward the stairs.

~ - ~ - ~ -

Lucius never called for her that evening. Not that she minded, although it might have been preferable to know something about their conversation before she went to bed in order to quell some of the trepidation she felt. She slept restlessly as a result.

Her questions remained unanswered through the following day, as Draco departed early in the morning and remained out throughout the day, making Ginny wonder if his father had once again sent him on some sort of errand. By evening, she hoped to get some sort of indication before dinner, but her chances to interact with him once Lucius came home were rare.

Being Friday, and knowing that she'd likely not get any answers until after the weekend, she arrived for their typical evening dinner feeling annoyed and frustrated. At a logical level, she realized her nagging curioisity was a good distraction for her, in light of the upcoming weekend, but at an emotional level, she felt no small amount of irritation toward both men for keeping the information from her.

If anything, dinner only added to her un-sated curiosity. She had expected the usual Friday evening coolness between the two men to return. Instead, she could barely suppress her surprise when she heard Draco enter the room with a polite greeting.

"Good evening, Father, Ginevra."

What was more surprising was hearing Lucius respond in the same polite tone. "Draco. Good of you to join us this evening. I assume your efforts today were successful."

She found herself stunned as she observed the unusual behavior. Normally, they only maintained the barest hint of civility when they were in proximity to each other. Whatever had transpired between father and son had clearly been monumental. As they continued their civil conversation over the evening meal, Ginny found herself constantly glancing to each one as they spoke, making her think of watching a Muggle tennis match. Fortunately, both men seemed to be completely ignoring her, though she was quite certain that Draco must have been privately gleaning some amusement at her expressions of surprise.

Apparently, Draco had been sent to conduct some of Lucius' personal business during the day, although they didn't expand on the details, considering it to be an improper dinner topic.

"We will be having a small dinner party on the twenty-fifth," Lucius continued, changing the subject from the more interesting topic of Draco's whereabouts. Ginny fought to hide her disappointment.

"May I ask who will be attending?" Draco inquired.

"Just a small gathering of the inner circle," his father explained, pausing in his meal. "I would like for you to attend as well. It would be a good opportunity for you to reestablish yourself."

"Of course, Father," Draco responded. "I will arrange my plans accordingly."

Ginny could only continue to listen with rapt interest. Draco's responses continued to surprise her. In this case, the dinner was planned to be on a Saturday, and Draco had never, ever remained in the manor over a weekend since she'd arrived there.

"I would also request that you make yourself available to assist Ginevra, as needed," Lucius continued. "She has expressed some concern over managing the details."

"I would be happy to assist," Draco replied, ignoring Ginny completely, as was expected. She silently fumed, wishing she could break into the conversation and ask outright what was going on, but it wasn't her place. As it was, Lucius was in a gracious mood, seeing that he had bothered to consider her feelings about the dinner party. She attempted to focus on the positives of that small courtesy.

As the meal concluded, she had still failed to catch even the tiniest glimpse of indication from Draco about what had transpired to initiate this drastic change. Finally, he rose, just as he normally did on Friday evenings, except that the scene was markedly different from his usual stormy departure.

"With your permission, Father, I'll take my leave of you now."

Lucius bowed his head in acknowledgment. "We will discuss matters further upon your return," he said, as if nothing was even remotely amiss.

The only sound as he left the room, was the tinkle of Ginny's fork dropping from her limp fingers onto her dessert plate.

~ - ~ - ~ -

Unfortunately, Lucius returned to his normal routine during the weekend, forcing Ginny to retreat into a form of mental cocoon using tactics she'd studied for Occlumency. The fuzzy details of her life became almost dreamlike as she shoved her emotions aside. She didn't try to analyze why, as it would have brought forth too many emotions that needed to be suppressed while she was in the company of her husband and his acquaintances. In a way, it became a comfort to feel as if she was observing herself from the perspective of an outside observer.

By the time Monday morning came, she was almost proud of herself for accomplishing the task. She'd been successful at once again falling into the role as Mrs. Lucius Malfoy, but the act of doing so had seemed more emotionally draining than it had in the past. She looked forward to having time alone to recover, both physically and mentally, but before she could put her thoughts fully into perspective, ihe/i returned from his weekend.

She tried not to notice when he'd failed to return early in the evening on Sunday, as had become typical of him in the past several weeks. She might have dismissed that as merely coincidence, but it soon became quite clear that he was avoiding her when he passed her in the hallway later that morning, giving her a polite nod and reminding her that he was available to assist her with planning the dinner. He wasn't rude, in fact, he was more than courteous, giving her a small, gentle smile as he turned away.  
She returned to her parlor, sat at her elegant desk, and contemplated having a good cry.

He wasn't being cruel, she somehow understood that. He was giving her space. He'd seen how difficult it had been for her to contain her emotions at the dinner table on Thursday, and again on Friday before he left. He was trying to make returning to their old ways easier. There was no doubt in her mind that his actions were intended to be kind.

But she didn't want him to be kind. She didn't deserve that, and even if she did, she didn't want it. Not like this, and certainly not from him.

Given time to think, she tried to decide what she truly did deserve. She had given up her entire life for others and, while she didn't regret her choice, she nevertheless harbored a small amount of bitterness. She felt that she did deserve at least a small amount of happiness where she could find it, and her opportunities in her situation were exceedingly rare. Without conscious effort, her gaze moved toward the window overlooking the small glimpse of swamp peeking out from among the rose bushes. The sight always seemed to bring a small smile to her lips, and in that moment, she counted herself fortunate that she'd gotten to know the gentler side of Draco Malfoy.

The thought then crossed her mind that, perhaps, her attraction to the man had only been due to the fact that he'd been her only real companion over the last few months. Before she'd come here, her experience in dating had been well and truly limited, giving her no basis for categorizing her feelings.

Worse, she'd spent most of her teenage years completely besotted with Harry Potter, and now found that she felt incredibly guilty that she'd forgotten him so quickly after leaving her former home. But then again, Harry hadn't really been anything but a fond memory for a long time before that. He'd been gone for three years, and over that time, she'd outgrown her infatuation with the boy hero.

Looking out the window, she saw that the object of her thoughts was once again out in the warm summer sunshine, working with Barnabas' still unnamed offspring in the paddock. She'd become so fond of the sight of him at work, seeing an empathetic side of him that so few knew even existed. As she watched, she realized that something in the current image irked her. For once, her favorite horseman was not shirtless, as had been typical in the warm weather. A small smirk came to her lips at the realization. He likely had been removing his shirt to deliberately draw her attention since the weather had warmed. How sneaky of him. She chuckled, even as she felt the urge to chastise him.

That was when it all seemed to fall into place. If she'd had the opportunity to choose any man she knew to be her one companion in this place, would she have developed such feelings for any of them? The list of friends, acquaintances and old boyfriends skimmed across her memory. While she was fond of all, even attracted to several, none could even come close to the intimacy, both intellectual and physical, that seemed to draw her towards Draco. They were kindred in some base way that she'd never known before.

Placing her palms on the desk, she pushed herself to her feet. The last time she'd felt such determination course through her veins was the day she'd walked into Lucius Malfoy's office with the mad plan that had ultimately brought her to this place. That same sense of purpose washed over her once again, as she realized that she knew what she wanted. Now that she'd resolved to attain it, well, she could do nothing except confront the issue as directly as possible.

Marching out toward the carriage house, she noticed that Draco had disappeared inside, no doubt having completed the young horse's regimen for the day. She found him inside, murmuring quietly to the animal as he brushed its glossy dark coat.

"I noticed something today," she said, foregoing any actual greeting.

As usual, he seemed unsurprised by her abrupt entry, and unruffled by her statement. She wondered if he was exceptionally astute, or perhaps he knew her far better than she realized.

He simply smiled and continued his work as he responded, "And what might that be, Ginny?"

She marched up to him, forcing him to stop his ministrations due to her close proximity. He dropped his hands from the horse, placing the brush aside before turning to face her directly. Giving her his full attention, he raised one eyebrow in question, appearing almost amused by her direct invasion of his personal space.

"I just want you to know, that I am not the least bit amused," she said, her eyes narrowing in irritation.

He chose to say nothing in response, only giving her a look that prompted her to explain further.

She poked him in the chest. "How dare you spoil my view this morning," she stated accusingly.

He'd expected some form of reaction from her, due to his aloofness earlier in the day, but her statement was unexpected. "Excuse me?"

She stepped up closer, grabbing hold of the front of his shirt. "As mistress of this house, I believe I have final say in the details of all scenery on the grounds," she stated, the forcefulness of her tone slightly softened by a mischievous glint in her eye.

He seemed intrigued by her statement, but fought back showing too much interest until she clarified her accusation. "And..." he prompted.

Stepping even closer, she popped open a button on his shirt.

"I have become quite accustomed," she said, pausing long enough to pop open two more buttons to emphasize her point, "to seeing you dressed in a certain type of attire during the warm weather."

He watched her intently, a mixture of surprise and amusement now etched on his face.

She released the last button with a flourish, pulling open the front of his shirt as she completed the action. "And I am deeply concerned about you becoming a rather unattractive shade of pasty white if this continues."

She looked up at him, her expression changing from serious to daring, and just a hint of mock irritation.

He smiled.

"Far be it from me to disappoint the mistress of the house..." he said, matching her tone with all mock seriousness. Removing his shirt, he stood back, not reaching to touch her, but daring her to continue. "Is that better?" he asked.

"Much better," she stated, looking up at him with as much haughty arrogance as she could muster, although the slight smirk on her lips ruined the serious effect.

She looked at him appraisingly, running her fingers across his chest and down to his stomach.

"Is there something I can do for you, Mistress?" he asked, deciding to keep his tone playfully serious.

She licked her lips enticingly as she looked back up at him.

Reaching his arms around her waist, he pulled her closer, focusing his gaze from her lips to her eyes. "You should be careful what you wish for, Mistress."

"I think I'm quite capable of determining what I want," she said, lifting her chin high, her determination evident. "I want you," she said, her voice slightly husky.

He needed no further prodding as he leaned in to claim her lips in a heated kiss. She matched him enthusiastically, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling herself closer, releasing a sigh in pleasure at his touch.

He pulled back for a moment, noting her look of disappointment.

He appeared ready to ask her again sure about her actions, and she chose to stop him before he started. Placing a hand on his bare chest, she explained, "I want you, Draco. We can talk more later, but I've made my decision."

He nodded. Pulling her close once again, he kissed her in response, lifting her up as she once again wrapped her arms around his neck. He spun her around, eliciting a small giggle from her, ending the spin by sweeping her up in his arms.

He turned, walked a few steps away from the still-tethered horse and tossed her into a pile of fresh hay, causing her to squeak in surprise. A moment later, he positioned himself on top of her, holding himself up on his hands, carefully not touching her.

She reached up, grabbed him around the back of the neck and pulled him into another kiss, forcing him to drop down on top of her, quickly moving his kisses from her lips to her neck, and down to her collarbone, his hands moving to caress her through the bodice of her light summer dress. She gave a soft laugh in response, running her fingers through his hair, encouraging him to continue as she closed her eyes in bliss.

"You have no idea how many times I've dreamed of this..." he told her between kisses.

He was then running his hand up her leg, dragging the material of her skirt up with his caress, his mouth having moved to paying homage to her neck as she giggled again.

"Of making love in a pile of hay?" she asked playfully.

He continued to speak between kisses, his hand continuing its journey along her leg, now reaching her hip and the waistband of her knickers.

"In the hay... in the garden... by the lake..." he mumbled, becoming more enthusiastic with each kiss. She thought about saying something in return, but quickly abandoned the idea as his fingers quickly found places that made her only capable of gasping in response.

She returned every caress, reaching for his belt and loosening his trousers with equal enthusiasm, her moans of pleasure stirring him onward as he removed her knickers and helped her free him from the confines of his trousers.

Her mind tried to form a coherent response to his last statement, but words abandoned her completely as he thrust himself inside of her willing body. All she was truly aware of was the fact that he was something that she could no longer live without.

- ~ - ~ -

He held her for a long time after, each simply content to be in the other's embrace. By necessity, however, he had to get up and attend to the horse they'd left impatiently standing in the doorway.

She followed him, merely satisfied to be in his company as he went about his beloved chores.

"So, why?" he finally asked.

She smiled. He'd always seemed like a mouthy little boy in school, yet here, he was a person of few words, always speaking directly to the point. She liked that about him. She thought for a long moment, hoping that her words didn't seem trite when she finally spoke. "I just decided that I deserve to be happy in whatever way I can be."

"Weasley, are you saying you're using me for my body?" he asked, sounding humorous, but she detected a hint of trepidation in his expression.

"No," she insisted. "Actually, I think that that was the main reason that I was afraid of continuing this... whatever this is."

He looked at her appraisingly, waiting for more.

She took his arm as they walked, wanting for some reason to be close to him as she spoke. "I worried a great deal about hurting you, or that I was using you because you happened to be...convenient," she said, looking almost ashamed of her words. "But, I've had time to think about it, and I'm quite certain that I want you because of who you are."

"No other reason?"

She shook her head, smiling gently.

He smiled in return, kissing her once again. "But what about...?" he started to say.

She stopped him by placing a finger on his lips, knowing that he would discuss her marital situation. She didn't want to address that question at the moment, not with him, perhaps not ever.

"I need your help to compartmentalize who I am. I need to work on Occlumency if I'm going to survive here. I can't let them know who I really am, but I can't shut myself away so much that I lose myself, either."

She was willfully and deliberately choosing a double life for herself, even more drastically than what she'd done before. She hoped he would understand and would accept it.

~ - ~ - ~ - ~

A/N - remember folks, review, or the author thinks you don't care, and loses motivation to write. Thanks in advance.


	12. Chapter 12 Suspicious Activity

A/N - My hottest chapter yet... a new thing for me...

thanks so much to my Beta, Aerleigh

- - - - -

She sat at her desk, unable to focus on any of the paperwork spread about on the surface. Instead, she turned toward the window, watching a warm summer rain wash against the pane. Part of her wanted to run out into the weather and dance in the raindrops like she always did when she was a little girl. It was a silly thought, but her head seemed filled with many such notions over the last few days.

She felt a small smile tug at the corners of her mouth as she thought of the reasons why she seemed so distracted by such ideas. She was being rebellious, certainly, making her feel more empowered than she had since she first arrived at the manor. But it was far more than that, although she resisted putting a label on the full range of her emotions for the time being. For now, she was content, at least with the daylight hours of her life.

Their first week together had passed quickly, and the time they'd spent together to finalize details of the upcoming party could almost be described as a joy, except for the fact that Ginny hated every last one of the guests with a flaming passion. Unfortunately, Friday had arrived far too quickly and she couldn't help but wonder about how she would cope with Draco gone for the weekend, or if he would leave at all. Things were different now, and after only a few days of being with him, the thought of two days without him seemed almost unfathomable.

She was roughly pulled from her less than cheerful thoughts by the sudden feeling of gentle arms snaking around her shoulders, and warm, soft kisses caressing her neck. She giggled as the fluttering of light kisses tickled her. Apparently, judging from the affectionate greeting she was receiving, Draco had returned from his morning errands.

She immediately abandoned all other thoughts and turned her attention fully to him. "I thought you were going to be gone longer," she said, reaching back behind her to caress his soft blond hair, and allowing her heart to flutter in time with the kisses as he nibbled on her neck.

"I had reason to be quick," he replied lightly. She loved the tone of his voice, but he stopped speaking in favor of more kisses.

"And what reason would that be?" she asked, giggling as he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

"Oh, it was the rain," he teased, while pushing her hair aside so he could access more of her neck. His response was slightly muffled as he continued, "I didn't want to be out in the rain."

She smacked his arm at his response, still smiling as she turned to kiss him in return. The joy she felt at him simply being in the room with her warmed her, despite the cool, rainy weather.

"Do I need to teach you simple drying charms, or are you going to have to carry one of those odd Muggle umbreelies?" she teased.

He laughed at her taunt, giving her a playful smirk as he pulled a parchment from his pocket. "You'd best be nice to me, or I won't give you your present..." He paused dramatically, waving the item in the air, just out of her reach.

She attempted to look sternly at him, but failed miserably. "Are you threatening me?"

"I wouldn't dream of it, Mistress," he said with as smile and an elegant flourish, as he handed her the latest correspondence from her family.

Normally, she would have halted their romantic play and opened the letter, always eager to read the latest news from her loved ones. But for the first time, the contents of the note were somehow less important than spending time with the handsome courier. She dropped the parchment carelessly onto the desk, turning her attention back to him, and not failing to notice that he watched her action with a small amount of surprise.

He grinned when he realized that he was more important at the moment, and his open expression of delight made her smile in return. Feeling the need to have him closer, she grabbed his tie and tugged, a small feral grin coming to her lips when he willingly complied with her demand.

His lips touched hers a moment later, and she closed her eyes to focus on the incredible softness of his mouth on hers. She loved kissing him, and one of her greatest challenges over the previous evenings had been not to focus on the enticing poutiness of his lips during dinner. Each meal had suddenly become a greater test of her practice of Occlumency, as she worked to shut her feelings aside while they were in the presence of Lucius.

There was no need for such lessons at the moment. Alone with Draco, she allowed her emotions and feelings to run free. Their kisses usually started the same way: softly, gently and full of affection. But, without fail, they grew in intensity. The softness of his kisses drove her mad, willing her to demand more to satisfy her desire for him.

She reached up to wrap her hand around the back of his head, running her fingers through the softness of his hair and inhaling the scent of him. He pressed his lips more firmly onto hers, claiming her mouth, making her drunk with desire to be closer to him.

As a soft sigh escaped from her, and she awkwardly tried to shift closer to him from her position in the chair, she could feel his lips forming into his trademark smirk. She might have chastised him for being smug but had no desire to interrupt the moment.

He began fingering the ties on the back of her dress that held together the bodice, and she squirmed slightly in his embrace. She was still seated and was forced to twist in order to touch him, making it difficult to press herself closer yet somehow she managed. She was delighted to hear him groan in response as her hand brushed eagerly against the front of his trousers. As he finally broke the kiss to latch once again onto her neck, she felt the familiar flutter of arousal in her stomach increase.

Finally releasing her from her bodice, he slid the garment from her shoulders, his movement giving her space to finally move out of the confines of the chair to stand. She still felt the slightest bit shy around him, but her desire quickly quelled the feeling as she turned to face him. She slowly freed her arms from the sleeves of the dress, allowing the top of the garment to drop, hanging limply at her waist.

Now bared before him, she found herself enjoying the almost reverent look in his eyes, dark with passion, as he stared for a long moment at her breasts. He brought his hands up, cupping each breast gently, before turning his gaze back to her face, focusing on her lips.

She took a deep breath as she took in the sight of him, staring at her as if she were the most beautiful thing in the world. He looked back down at her naked torso, slowly moving his hand from her breast to trace it lightly across her stomach, then drawing it lazily across toward the side of her waist, his gaze following the movement of his hand. She flinched slightly as he hit a ticklish spot, and he immediately stopped his action, looking at her with concern.

It took her only a moment to realize that he still worried that she might fear him, or that he might have touched a spot where she'd been abused.

"I'm a bit ticklish there," she explained, hoping that he'd need no further encouragement.

He tilted his head to the side, that sexy fringe of hair falling across his eyes as they suddenly sparkled with amusement. "Oh really?"

She suddenly realized that she'd made a serious tactical error as a smile slowly came to his lips. She tried to back away, only to realize that her desk was immediately behind her. She was trapped, as one of his hands dropped onto the desk, the chair being on the other side, effectively caging her where she was. Her only escape route seemed to be over the top of the desk, and she scooted her bum onto the item in a desperate attempt to back away, as her lover's smile widened with mischief.

"Oh no..." she stammered, putting her hands against his chest, hoping to discourage him.

His free hand immediately moved to her waist. He didn't hit the spot, but it seemed that the mere suggestion of being tickled made her all the more squeamish. She squeaked and tried to scoot further back onto the desk.

The escape attempt was tremendously unsuccessful, as he followed her journey backwards, until she was lying on top of the desk, and he was positioned directly over her, trapping her in place. He grabbed her hands, which had started making wild movements in an attempt to fend him off and soon hand them both in his left hand, pinned above her head, his right hand now hovering over her now hyper-ticklish stomach.

"You wouldn't dare!" she growled in a rather ineffective threat, fully expecting the tickling to begin at any moment.

Instead he placed his hand on her hip to hold her in place and leaned down to kiss her in the sensitive spot, his tongue soon following to lick the area. It was still massively ticklish, bordering on torture, she thought, but it was the most delightful form of torture she could have ever imagined. Her uncontrolled laughter as she begged him to stop only encouraged him to continue, soon leaving her panting and breathless.

When he finally did stop to allow her to draw breath, she closed her eyes in bliss, the smile from her recent giggles plastered firmly on her face. Thinking of how ridiculous she must look, lying topless across her own desk, caused her to break into another fit of giggles.

As she looked at Draco and saw the playful sparkle still in his eyes, she was struck with the sudden realization that, during this one week together, he'd caused her to completely change how she'd come to view sex. Even in her wildest adolescent fantasies, she'd never imagined that there could be so much joy and playfulness. Yet, there was.

As her laughter subsided, he lifted himself off her, standing at the edge of the desk. Never taking his eyes from her, he began to gently tug the dress from her hips, leaving her naked on the desk in front of him. She briefly considere moving to a less awkward location, however, she seemed to have lost all ability for coherent thought, and the idea flitted away from her mind as soon as she looked back up at him.

Lifting herself up on her elbows so she could see him better, she watched him loosen his tie, slowly, as if teasing her. She narrowed her gaze at him, willing him to move more quickly, but he only smirked as he tossed the tie aside, moving onto the buttons of his shirt with the same tauntingly slow pace. She felt her mouth watering in anticipation, like a child in front of a candy store.

He did not disappoint her, as his own anticipation caused him to speed his pace, popping open each button, compelling her to lick her lips as he revealed his chest. She found it difficult to think that she'd once considered him to be too pale, as the now found herself captivated by the light tan that graced his skin, enhancing the corded lines of muscles. His frequent riding and working with his horses had broadened his shoulders, and given him incredible muscle definition, right down to the strength in his calloused hands. She ached to have those hands touch her as she watched him continued to disrobe.

When he finally leaned down over her again, remaining standing near the edge, she sat up further to reach for him, her fingers eagerly tracing over his chest, the tactile feeling of him confirming once again that he was more than a fantasy.

He chuckled at her eagerness, grabbing her wrists, ignoring her pout of protest as he began to lay kisses on her wrists, working his mouth tantalizingly up her arm as he gently pushed her back onto the desk. Papers, once neatly stacked, were strewn carelessly about, as she squirmed under his ministrations. Finally, he latched his mouth onto one breast, forcing her to emit incoherent sounds of pleasure as his tongue lazily moved over the tip, arousing her further.

Until now, she'd been the one to take the lead in their lovemaking, as Draco had been careful to give her the opportunity to back away if she felt it necessary. She found that she was enjoying the reversal immensely, surrendering herself to him completely.

Part of her wanted to close her eyes and simply feel his touch as his mouth and hands began to move down to her hips, but a stronger part of her wanted to see him. She looked down to see him, his eyes closed in bliss as he enjoyed her body in the the most intimate of ways. She let loose a small gasp as he worked his own form of magic between her legs.

Her body soon shuddered in orgasm, causing her lover to lift his head, smiling at her in satisfaction. He pulled her forward, until her bum rested precariously on the edge of the desk. Annoyed that he was so far from her, she immediately wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer. They soon discovered that the desk was at an ideal height for her to remain seated as he immediately pushed himself into her, causing her gasp in pleasure.

As he thrust into her, his hands wrapped around her, cupping her bottom and holding her close as he groaned in satisfaction. She rocked with him, wrapping her arms around his neck and closing her eyes. She smiled, thinking that the exquisite intimacy of feeling him inside her was like an addictive potion. She could think of nothing else but the feelings he evoked from her. When he finally shuddered in release, she wrapped her arms more tightly around him, wishing to prolong the moment for as long as possible.

It was in that moment that she was left helpless by yet another epiphany: She now had no doubt that she was falling passionately in love with the younger Malfoy and she no longer had any will to fight the onslaught of feelings that she had for him.

Eventually, he did try to move away, but she refused to release him, still somewhat stunned by her own revelation. He looked down at her in amusement.

"A bit possessive, are we, Weasley?"

He only called her "Weasley" when he was taunting her, and she loved the endearment.

"Can't we move someplace more comfortable?" she asked.

"As you wish, My Lady," he responded graciously, cupping her around the bum again as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He lifted her off the desk, shuffling the few remaining papers onto the floor in the process, as he carried her over to the nearest sofa. After setting her there, he settled himself over her and began kissing her again.

The two were so wrapped up in each other that they almost didn't hear the familiar pop of Apparition near the entrance of the room. They both stopped, staring wide-eyed in fear for a long moment, before Draco lifted his head to look over the back of the couch to find a house elf looking worriedly at him.

"I thought I left strict orders that I was not to be disturbed here," he barked irritably at the creature.

He had. Each time he spent with Ginny, he gave an order to the elves that they not be disturbed. Not that the elves would likely care one way or another how their masters spent their time, but it was more than an issue of their personal privacy. While it was not in the nature of an elf to tattle on the actions of their owners, there was little doubt that an elf would answer truthfully if asked a direct question about any activity they had seen. If Lucius ever became suspicious, it was best if the elves knew as little as possible.

"Young Master, Professor Snape has arrived to see you," the thing responded, wringing its hands in fear.

Draco grunted in annoyance, then glanced down at Ginny, still lying naked beneath him on the soft cushions of the couch, staring back at him with a fearful expression. The elf could not see her, as she was hidden behind the high back of the couch, only Draco's tousled head showing above the piece of furniture, but the interruption was a cruel reminder of their situation.

"Have him wait in the front parlor. I'll be with him shortly," Draco barked at the elf and watched it disappear as quickly as it had arrived. Looking back down to Ginny, he said softly, "Sorry, love. It seems I have business that needs attention."

As he pulled away from her and moved toward his abandoned clothing, she followed, deciding that it might be a good time to glean some information from him. "What kind of business, Draco?" she asked, trying to sound casual, although the curiosity had burned in her for some time. She hoped that their recent intimacy might have left him feeling open enough to answer. "What is it that you do when you're away from here?"

He stiffened at the question, and seemed to avoid looking at her, as he performed a quick cleansing spell on himself.. She almost regretted asking, as it had apparently spoiled the closeness they'd felt only minutes earlier. However, she was nothing if not stubborn. Despite his unwillingness to respond, she continued to stand there, naked, crossing her arms and silently demanding an answer.

He gave a deep sigh as he began to pull on his pants, still not looking directly at her as he answered. "I've recently asked Snape to assist me in a venture into the Potions business," he replied, rather vaguely.

"Why might he be interested in that?" she said, continuing to try to sound more curious, despite her internal urge to press him. "I thought he was still Headmaster at Hogwarts."

He cast a spell to eliminate any wrinkles from his shirt before pulling it on, not looking at her as he replied. "He is. This is a side venture, for now."

It bothered her that he'd suddenly shut down, after all their open conversations in recent months. He was keeping something important from her and she desperately wanted to find out what it was. She put a hand on his arm, effectively stopping his actions as she silently willed him to tell her more, hoping that she might finally find out what he did on weekends, and now evenings, and why he and his father were now on better terms.

"What are you doing, Draco?"

He looked at her, all echoes of their previous playfulness gone from his expression as he shook his head with obvious regret. "I can't tell you, Ginny. You don't want to know."

"Yes, I do!" she said insistently. She wasn't stupid, and she strongly suspected that his dealings were far from reputable. The idea of him once again siding with Voldemort frightened her.

He moved closer, taking her hands and gave a resigned sigh as he looked into her worried face. "Ginny, I told you, I need to have some form of occupation because my future here is very, very limited. Is it so hard to think that I might become a Potions Master in order to earn a living?"

He wasn't telling her the entire truth, she was certain of it, but he released her to straighten his tie. She gave a resigned sigh and bowed her head in defeat. She wouldn't get anything more from him for the time being.

Leaning toward her, he cupped her chin and gave her a light kiss before walking toward the door.

- ~ - ~ -

She dressed quickly, all her recent thoughts of intimacy now replaced with annoyance. As she neatened her desk, she found the letter from her family and scanned the contents. It was disappointing, to say the least. They begged her to escape, promising her that they would go into hiding to protect themselves and her from the threat of Voldemort's rule.

She tossed the letter into the fireplace, watched it ignite, and tried to contain her anger.

Did they really think that they could spend months, or possibly years, hiding in an Unplottable location? Even if they did, they would need money for food and necessities. Their shortsightedness was frustrating. Granted, Ginny's situation was the result of a rash decision on her own part, but a second rash decision from them would not make it right.

She decided that it might be in her best interest to do as Draco had done and perhaps start skiving off a few galleons in her ledger. It would take some time, but at least that would be of help, in the event that her family did indeed need to retreat into hiding at some point, and not only if she managed to run away.

She wandered down the hallway, hoping to catch some of Draco's conversation with Snape, but was disappointed to find that a silencing charm had been cast on the room, thwarting her plan to eavesdrop. Her day only deteriorated further when Lucius arrived home early, ending her time with Draco sooner than she expected, and still with no answers.

~ - ~ - ~ -

She survived the weekend, although her eagerness to see Draco return on Sunday evening was difficult to suppress, causing her to lose her mental resolve several times. Fortunately, when he arrived at dinner on Sunday, his mask was already in place, leading her to keep herself in check. She wondered how he was able to transform himself with such ease, but then again, she reminded herself that he did, after all, have years of experience in doing this.

The odd behavior between Lucius and Draco continued. For some reason, the hostility between the two had almost completely vanished, and they seemed to meet two or three times a week. As she watched the two interact, her curiosity continued to nag her about what he'd said to his father to elicit the change. Unfortunately, each time she tried to voice the question, he would find a way to avoid giving her an answer.

And so it continued for the next two weeks, as she settled into her new daily routine. She would enter her parlor every morning after Lucius left, only to find Draco impeccably dressed and waiting for her, ready to distract her with kisses until she scolded him.

She refused to voice her feelings for him, however. Sometime after he'd refused to tell her the whole truth about his current dealings with Snape and his father, she'd come to realize that it was best to not share such a dangerous sentiment. He'd not mentioned his feelings since that first night they'd spent together and it had become an unspoken agreement between them that some secrets were best not shared.

So, while she enjoyed every moment of being with him, she continued to maintain worry about what he might be involved in, and worse, she maintained a nagging fear that whatever they had would have to end at some point. She tried not to dwell on that thought.

~ - ~ - ~ -

On the evening of the party, she did her best to ensure that all was in order and spent extra time to ensure that her dress, hair and makeup were as perfect as possible. Her husband would expect no less, and she desperately wanted to make certain that she did nothing to incur his wrath, especially for an evening he'd specifically stated was important to him.

The sum of Ginny's previous experience regarding the hosting of a dinner party included things such as watching her mother Floo the invitees, cleaning the house, and expanding the dinner table to accommodate the extra place settings. If it was a really big party, the table would be moved outside first. Occasionally, she'd assist her mother in cooking and, if needed, a tacky decoration or two would be added. She'd hated the chore at the time, but now, she treasured the memories fondly.

She put on her dress and checked herself in the mirror. She would have preferred to buy something in a different color, but Lucius had specified the black. She supposed it didn't matter, as any night among Lucius' friends was sufficiently morbid to make her feel as if she was attending a funeral. The dress was nothing spectacular, but certainly adequate to show off her curves as the model trophy wife of a high-ranking member of the Ministry.

Choosing diamond jewelry, to go with the silver and black theme of the party, she began to feel dread about the evening ahead. Putting on the expensive necklace only made her feel more acutely aware of the bondage that was her marriage.

Lucius entered the room just as she had finished with the final touches of makeup. She stood to greet him nervously, never knowing if his mood would lead him to either approve or disapprove.

"You look lovely this evening, my dear," he said, taking her gloved hand and lifting it to kiss her knuckles lightly. She breathed relief. He was in a good mood.

"Thank you, My Lord," she said, bowing her head in an expression of submission. She looked back up to see him smile.

All in all, the evening had started well.

As the party progressed, she frequently glanced about the rooms, verifying that nothing appeared amiss. Small silver trays floated around the room, always appropriately filled with a variety of hors d'ouvres. The lighting in the room was appropriately dim, and the musicians that she had hired were playing appropriate background music to enhance the atmosphere.

The sounds of the party might have almost been normal, Ginny thought, if not for the horrible cackling laugh of Bellatrix Lestrange in the far corner of the room. The witch seemed unusually enthusiastic about something, which worried Ginny, as Bella's idea of good news almost always meant something horrible for someone else. At the moment, the other witch was talking to Draco, who seemed far too at ease among the guests for Ginny's liking.

Ginny herself remained at her husband's side, attempting to give the impression of being a proper wife. She stayed in Lucius' shadow, smiling demurely and speaking only when spoken to, or when prompted by her husband. It was quite a tedious task, and in order to accomplish it, she tried to shove aside as much of her true personality as her training would allow.

As best she could, she tried to listen in on any conversation that seemed to be of interest, hoping to get word out to her family, if need be, about any impending danger. Apparently, the law about removing children from undesirable environments had taken effect, and there was a great deal of excitement about retraining all half-blooded children to accept a lesser role in society. They discussed such things with a casual air that she found disturbing, and unfortunately without enough detail to tell her if any of her family might be targeted.

Discouraged, she noticed Draco casually moving among the same groups, his presence welcomed by the guests. He looked comfortable in their company, a feat that she realized she would never be able to achieve, regardless of how well she played her role as Lucius' wife.

As Lucius settled into an inconsequential conversation about Quidditch, Ginny quietly slipped away, feeling drained and frustrated. Her experience with Occlumency was still new, and the energy she used for hiding her feelings left her mentally exhausted. Unfortunately, she felt that she needed to practice her skills in front of the guests, as she was well aware that many in the room might be much more adept at Legilimency than Lucius. She didn't want to risk any of her day life being noticed by any of them.

After several long minutes, she finally calmed her emotions and was preparing to rejoin the gathering, but as she started walking back toward the parlor she suddenly found herself confronted by Augustus Rookwood.

"Where have you been, Mrs. Malfoy?" the unpleasant man asked, his voice sounding more grating than usual to her ears.

She tried to smile in a calm and polite way as she responded, "Just a quick trip to the loo, I'm afraid. I hope I didn't miss anything too exciting."

His gaze darkened, and he didn't even try to hide the leer that came to his lips as he studied her. "All the 'excitement' is out here, it would seem," he replied.

She took a deep gulp of air. She was in no mood to be dealing with unwanted advances from a Death Eater. Her evening had been trying, and she was mentally spent. She fought an urge to lose her temper. "I certainly doubt that," she said in a coldly polite tone as she made a deliberate step toward the room.

He stopped her, unexpectedly grabbing her by the arm and then pinning her to the wall, his arms boxing her in. The very idea of this man touching her made her furious. The part of her that she'd pushed aside mentally had an entire evening of righteous anger that was aching to be released, and the scum standing before her had pushed her beyond what her self-restraint would allow.

Although the space was limited, she had enough room to draw her wand from her sleeve, jamming it harshly into Rookwood's throat and forcing him to step back.

He had obviously become accustomed to her meek demeanor when he'd seen her at previous gatherings and she internally laughed as he cowered in fear at her abrupt movement. During the usual Saturday parties, she'd not been allowed to bring her wand with her, and Lucius had been specific about how she should conduct herself, reminding her of the night she'd met Voldemort. But this party was in her own home, giving her cause to have the wand with her, just in case some small detail of the party required her attention. She found herself immensely grateful.

While she couldn't use her wand against Lucius, nothing was stopping her from destroying this piece of filth in self-defense, and the mood she was in after hearing the most recent bad news had left her more than willing to murder one of her guests.

"I'd think it best if you unhand my step-mother," came a cold voice from her left. She looked and saw Draco staring at the older man in cold fury. Her attacker flinched in fear as he backed away. While a part of her was grateful for Draco's interference, another part was angry that she wouldn't be able to take out her frustrations on the lowly excuse for a man.

"Look, the whelp has finally decided to show his teeth," Rookwood said, failing to hide the hint of fear in his voice, his taunt an obvious ruse to hide his cowardice.

As she studied the man, she saw his eyes suddenly shift, looking between the two of them. A moment later the flash of fear in his expression was replaced by something more sinister. It appeared Rookwood wasn't finished with his game for the night.

- - -

Draco watched Rookwood carefully as the man took in his protective stance at Ginny's side, and suddenly realized he'd made a serious mistake. Rookwood apparently had reached a conclusion that he felt could be used to his advantage. It was a normal Slytherin tactic. Rookwood had seen nothing outright damning, but that wouldn't stop him from creating a rumor, a rumor which would have just a bit too much truth in it for Draco's comfort.

He had no time to dispel the situation, as his father chose that particular moment to enter the hallway as well, likely in search of his wife. "What is the problem here?"

Rookwood turned to Lucius, smiling an oily smile, and Draco noticed his father's obvious distaste for the man. Trying to think quickly, Draco deduced that his father's dislike of Rookwood was the only thing that might salvage the situation, if used correctly.

"Just having a nice chat with your lovely wife, Lucius. She is quite 'friendly' as well beautiful," he said, turning briefly toward Ginny, giving her a look that caused her to cringe in distaste. Her reaction only seemed to encourage Rookwood, as he continued, leering at her, then back to Draco. "Draco seemed to feel it necessary to interrupt our conversation. He appears quite possessive of her."

Ginny remained silent, dropping her gaze and looking for all the world as if she wished she could be elsewhere. There was nothing she could say that would help herself as Lucius would draw his own conclusions as he saw fit. It was in her best interest to try not to lead his thoughts, and Draco was grateful that she remained silent.

"Ginevra, please attend to our guests," Lucius said, not looking at her. She simply nodded numbly and hurried away from the men, although Draco didn't fail to notice the flash of fear in her eyes.

He looked away from her as dispassionately as possible, knowing that Rookwood's casual insinuation had hit its mark. Lucius was staring at Draco instead of at him.

Rookwood smiled falsely. "Yes, I see," he said, waving his hand dismissively, "I see you have family matters to discuss. I will take my leave," he said, giving Draco a triumphant smile. Lucius only nodded in response as the disgusting excuse for a wizard jauntily walked back to the gathering.

"Of course," Lucius said coldly, turning back to his son. "You have an explanation," he said, prompting Draco to respond.

Rookwood saying something to cause strife between Draco and his father had not been entirely unexpected. As word spread about the fact that Draco was working to reestablish himself in his father's favor, it was only expected that jealousies would be ignited. Draco's reintroduction opened a new game of favoritism before the Dark Lord, causing those with precarious positions to feel threatened. Rookwood's not-so-subtle insinuation had been intended to cast doubt on Draco's loyalty to his father, in order to discredit his motives. It was not entirely unexpected that someone might attempt such a tactic while Lucius' trust in his son was still tentative.

Draco ignored the implication in his father's tone and detailed the incident as dispassionately as possible.

"I saw her leave the loo and walk back toward the parlor. He stopped her and she appeared uncomfortable with the situation. I was only looking out for your interests, Father. I believe he is only altering events for his own ends."

He saw his father's expression change from cold to something else. It was difficult to place the emotion of the madman, but at least he did not appear angry.

"Of course, my son. You did the correct thing," he said, clapping a hand on his son's shoulder in an uncharacteristically friendly gesture. "Perhaps there is some hope for you yet."

"I hope so, Father," he said.

"You have become fond of Ginevra," he said. It was a statement, not a question. Draco didn't fail to miss the tone.

"Only in so much as she is yours, therefore a part of this household," Draco responded, hoping that there was no trace of emotion in his voice.

"My wife is far too beautiful for her own good," his father responded, almost to himself. "Summon Ginevra to my study. Augustus seems to feel that she is not properly under my command. There is a lesson to be taught here."

~ - ~ - ~ -

Ginny kept an eye on the door to the room, taking notice of when Lucius returned. He appeared to look particularly stern as he glanced about, his gaze eventually settling on Rookwood. She could only assume that something was going to happen, and she fervently hoped that if it was bad, that Rookwood would be at the receiving end of it.

Instead, Lucius approached the man and appeared almost pleasant as he struck up a conversation, eventually inviting him out of the room. She scrunched her brow in confusion, but felt a small sigh of relief escape her as Lucius seemed to pay her no mind. She decided that she would never understand the games that these people liked to play.

She turned to attempt to listen in on another conversation. Every so often, she did manage to catch a sentence or two that seemed to be useful, and she was certain she was on the verge of learning something important. She never got the chance, however, as Draco strode purposefully toward her.

"What's going on?" she asked, noting Draco's rather cool expression. She returned, giving him a haughty look of her own, after all, they weren't supposed to be friendly toward each other in front of these people.

"Father has asked me to bring you to his private study for a moment," he said, his voice casual, but his expression serious.

She looked about the room, noting that the guests were all grouped in various conversations among themselves, ignoring her as was usual.

"But the guests..." she said, knowing it was a lame excuse even as the words left her lips.

"They'll be fine. He said it won't take long."

Nervously, she followed him to Lucius' study. She hated going there, as nothing good had ever come from any of her visits. Being summoned to the study typically meant that Lucius was displeased with her. She wished Draco would give her some form of reassurance, but there were too many people wandering about.

They followed Lucius and Rookwood into the room, Lucius motioning to Draco to to close the door behind them. Draco then leaned against the closed door and crossed his arms, looking casually bored.

Lucius got straight to the point.

"I understand that you seem to be showing an interest in my wife, Augustus," he said, turning to the other man.

Rookwood appeared to be unaffected by the statement. This was a man who'd achieved status by treachery, and his sneering smile showed it. "There's no need to be upset. It's not like she has a reputation to be protected."

"She is my wife, and I don't take kindly to anyone coveting my possessions."

Ginny internally cringed at being described as a possession, but held her tongue.

The man shifted in his seat, crossing his legs and looking quite comfortable before continuing. His eyes narrowed as he went on his attack. "Come now, Lucius, one can't help but be an opportunist. We all know her background. After all, the Dark Lord makes certain that there are no secrets among the elite. He has made it quite well known that she was far from innocent when you married her."

She didn't fail to notice Lucius' eyes darken in anger. She'd seen that expression far too many times, and she unconsciously flinched, remembering the pain that typically accompanied that look. While she felt fortunate that Lucius was currently directing that gaze on Rookwood instead of her, she knew that the topic was a particularly sore subject between them, and prayed that he wouldn't remind her of it again later.

Rookwood, however, seemed unaffected by Lucius' anger. He apparently was looking for a reason to raise Lucius' ire. Whatever he was planning, she was certain, would not bode well for her.

"...and this evening, she had the gall to threaten me. All these months, and you still fail to contain her."

Lucius snarled. "It is not your place to challenge my loyalty based on her actions."

She dearly wished that she'd killed the slimy git as she listened to him continue to taunt her husband.

"Oh, but it is. You've already lost one wife who was deemed inferior by the Dark Lord. I only wanted to see if she was actually loyal to you or if she might be looking for a chance for advancement."

Lucius turned his gaze over toward Ginny, his eyes dark with anger. His words were directed at Rookwood but he looked at Ginny as he spoke, "Why would Ginevra even consider bedding the likes of you, then? I outrank you."

"Maybe it's not about position, except of course, in the bedroom," Rookwood said, once again looking over at her with a leering gaze.

Ginny's eyes widened in shock. She was nothing but repulsed by the other man. Rookwood's tactic was to put the blame on her in order to save his own sorry arse as, having been caught in the act, he was likely cowering internally, despite his cavalier attitude. She looked over in disgust at him.

"I would never touch you. Don't flatter yourself," she spat back. Nevertheless, the man's words had hit a mark.

Lucius smiled, but it was far from genuine.

"If not me, then perhaps someone else," Rookwood said tauntingly. Ginny gasped, her jaw dropping open slightly. "It's been quite well known that she looked for other company before you, Lucius. The Dark Lord wonders if you can make her loyal enough to be allowed to raise your next generation."

Lucius walked over toward her, reaching his hand to trace her cheek, and part of her was now terrified that he knew what she was thinking. Rookwood's comments had hit far too close to the truth. Granted, Lucius seemed unable to read her thoughts without use of his wand, but she was quite sure that nobody in the room needed to perform the Legilimency spell because the emotions of fear and possibly guilt were clearly written on her face. She could only hope that the look might be misinterpreted to imply that she was merely appalled at Rookwood's words.

She looked up into her husband's eyes, watching the irises darken as he took in her features. "My wife has no reason to look elsewhere, Augustus," he said, reaching his other hand around her waist to pull her closer to him. "We have quite a..." he paused looking lustfully into her eyes as he chose the correct words, "satisfactory relationship."

She didn't dare look away from his face, although she desperately wanted to look at Draco, to see his reaction, to see if he was going to do anything to help her. All she could manage was to look back into her husband's eyes, not quite pleadingly, but certainly with question about his next action.

What he did was unexpected, at best. He kissed her. It wasn't one of their simple chaste kisses that he typically used in public settings, but one of passion. As Ginny closed her eyes to accept the kiss, pretending that she welcomed it, she felt a depth of emotion that she'd never felt from her husband before. He was not one for public displays, so she could only assume the kiss was intended to show his possessiveness. She could do nothing but comply, as any other reaction would damn her.

Standing completely still, she allowed him to ravage her mouth, his hand twining into her hair in an uncharacteristic display. Making a conscious effort, she relaxed against his body, forgetting the others in the room and concentrating only on the actions between them. A brief moment later, she felt his hand move from her waist, tracing lazily up her body, until he allowed the backs of his fingers to brush teasingly against her breast.

Pulling back from the kiss, he gave her a haughty smile. "As you can see, Augustus, you can tell the others that I have her quite well in hand. Now, let us rejoin the gathering."

With that, he turned to exit the room, leaving Rookwood in shocked silence to follow. She finally was able to glance at Draco, but his expression was blank. He pulled away from the door, still appearing casually indifferent to the immodest display that had just occurred, and she found herself suddenly appalled that he'd been witness to her behavior. Lucius' actions had been more than possessive; they'd also been intended to humiliate her, a reminder to her, as well as the others, that she was his willing plaything. Draco barely glanced at her as he followed his father from the room.

Left alone, Ginny touched her lips and lowered her head in disgrace. Rookwood's words had been too accurate. Without saying the words outright, he'd still called her a whore, and with the way she was living her life, she could only agree.

- -- --

A/N - You know the deal folks... I NEED feedback. Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers who really keep me going. I love you all dearly.

Please don't be rude by reading and running. If there's something that is bad about my writing style...tell me! I do look to improve!


	13. Chapter 13 In the Company of Snakes

After the encounter in the study, Ginny was surprised to find that Lucius continued to be openly affectionate toward her for the remainder of the evening. He made certain that the others in the room were aware of his ownership of her, though his actions were not as blatantly rude as he had displayed in the study. It made for an incredibly long evening, as she endured Lucius's affection, while Draco seemed to pretend that she didn't exist. As the last of the guests departed, Ginny caught a glimpse of pain on Draco's face as Lucius led her upstairs to the master suite.

Draco was gone when she finally left her rooms the next day, leaving Ginny to assume that he once again had gone to his usual weekend location. A pang of jealousy stabbed at her as she wondered where he went on weekends, and who might be with him. She wondered if Draco was dealing with his own jealousy about her being with Lucius.

It made for a long and tedious Sunday.

Sundays were generally an odd day in Ginny's week. Lucius typically allowed her to sleep late, for which she was grateful. He would sometimes join her for a late brunch, or spend the day in his own study meeting with various friends. What they discussed, she rarely knew. Regularly, he would meet with her in the afternoon to check on her management of the household, reinforcing the fact that her marriage was very much a business arrangement.

This Sunday, she moped about the grounds, watching the horses as they spent the warm day in their respective fields, grazing and lazing about. The sight was peaceful, but all it did was remind her that Draco was not there, and she worried endlessly about whether or not things might change between them once again.

Lifting her skirt to avoid dragging it in the dirt of the paddock, she slowly made her way back to her garden, hoping that staring at her swamp might make her feel better.

It didn't.

She busied herself with weeding, then picked a handful of vegetables. Using her skirt as a basket she gathered the items and got up to return to the house. As she turned, however, a figure stood solidly in her path. She squeaked in surprise, at first thinking it was Draco, but then, as she looked upward, she fought to hide the look of disappointment in seeing Lucius.

"You are lonely here," he stated.

She nodded, rearranging her skirt to hold the vegetables that she'd nearly dropped in her surprise, desperately hoping that he had no idea of what she'd been thinking only moments earlier. "I'm accustomed to a large family," she said by way of explanation. "Being alone most of the time is very unusual for me."

He conjured a basket for her, and her fingers trembled slightly as she loaded the items into it. Lucius was never considerate of her. It was almost disturbing to see him perform such a simple act for her comfort.

Taking the basket, he offered her his arm, which she took dutifully as they walked back up the path. "I regret not making more time for you, Ginevra."

The thought of Lucius making more time for her made her blood run cold.

"I've been able to manage, but thank you for the sentiment," was all she could think of in reply, hoping that it would neither encourage nor anger him.

"Things are changing within the Ministry," he said, almost thoughtfully. "I may be called away for some time so that we might finish the Dark Lord's work. We are coming closer to ending the last of the rebellion."

His statement was surprising and she forced herself to suppress an expression of shock. He rarely shared anything of his dealings with Voldemort, likely due to his very justified mistrust of her. Unfortunately, the statement was far from welcome. Finishing the Dark Lord's work... Bringing an end...

She immediately shoved her emotions to the dark corner of her mind that was her haven, so that she could respond appropriately. "What does that mean?" she asked, hoping to sound merely curious.

He gave a smile and she suddenly realized that he seemed to think that she was worried about him. It made no sense to her, but she couldn't deny that his treatment of her had greatly improved over the last few weeks, ever since she'd willingly been playing her role as his willing wife. Apparently, he had no idea that her reticence had merely been a form of self-preservation, and that she complied only to avoid physical abuse.

She suddenly wondered if his affection toward her during the party had been more than show. She could only assume that her apparently enthusiastic response both during and after the party had led him to believe that her feelings toward him might have changed. Worse, it seemed that the events that had transpired at the party had clearly been some sort of turning point in Lucius' view of her.

She was mortified at the thought that she'd played her part too well.

"Do not worry, my dear. I will be quite cautious, I assure you." He smiled, a malevolent gleam coming to his eye as was common when he was thinking about Voldemort's plans. "We have a way to encourage Potter to show himself. The Dark Lord is eager to see him finally captured and when that happens, I will have more time for you." He paused again, smiling gently at her look of worry. "We will have a family soon, Ginevra. I promise you that."

"Of course," she said, her breath catching slightly with the acknowledgement.

"But you will require adult company while I am away," he continued.

She nodded again, afraid to speak. He'd just given her an incredible bit of information, secure that she had no way of telling anyone. Had she not shut her emotions away, she might have felt a bit more delight and triumph at the statement, as she realized that, at last, she might be able to send something of value back to her brothers to help them warn Harry.

He continued to explain, unaware of the rebellious thoughts running through her head.

"...therefore, I am arranging something for you that I believe you will enjoy. It will be good for you to have a suitable female companion while I am gone."

He was being generous, finding or hiring a friend? The word 'suitable' left her feeling concerned about who might fill such a role.

Nevertheless, her alter ego merely smiled at him, thanking him for his generosity. They appeared the picture of a content couple as they entered the rear patio as Lucius handed her the small basket.

"Unfortunately, I will be meeting with Rabastan this afternoon, but I have enjoyed this time with you, Ginevra," he said graciously.

"Thank you, My Lord," she replied softly.

"I leave you to your...hobbies," he said, looking curiously at the contents of the basket. Giving her a soft kiss, he turned and entered to the house. As she watched him go, she felt a small headache begin to start throbbing at the back of her neck. Rubbing the spot in annoyance, she decided to retrieve a headache potion. Dealing with Lucius being nice to her was not only foreign, but deeply disturbing.

- ~ -

Returning from her parlor, having consumed a sufficient amount of headache potion, Ginny realized that Lucius had not cast the usual silencing spells over his study where he was currently meeting with Rabastan Lestrange.

Determined to do some good, she crept closer to the open door to see if she might be able to overhear anything interesting in the conversation. She'd attempted this in the past, but never managed to obtain anything more than idle gossip.

"The potion is nearing completion," she heard Rabastan say.

"But is not yet complete..." Lucius responded, sounding a bit impatient. "The Dark Lord has asked again about your progress. I presume the tests are going well?"

Lestrange sounded hesitant when he answered, "The latest trials are promising, but the results are still inconclusive. Potions such as these take a great deal of skill to refine, Lucius. If only you could retain Snape to assist..."

"He insists he is fully occupied with other duties," Lucius responded flatly.

"Yet he also insists on regular updates from me via owl..." the other grumbled. "Aside from that, I need to discuss the acquisition of new test subjects. Testing on Muggles is rather limited."

Lucius sounded annoyed by the remark. "I'll assign someone to assist you," he responded. "I do wish you could expedite your work. Ending perfectly good bloodlines is never a pleasant option, but it may soon become necessary if the rebels continue their foolish quest."

A motion from the far end of the hallway caused Ginny to retreat behind one of the antiques that decorated the hall. The disturbing cackle of a laugh told her that one of the oncoming pair was Bellatrix Lestrange. The other... she tried to look out as discreetly as possible, and only caught the back of his head as they moved into the room. It was Draco.

So, he hadn't left, as she'd suspected. Her heart sank, knowing that he was nearby but she had no contact with him. His conversation with Bella was hushed, and she wondered if he suspected that she was in earshot.

Bella's response, however, was spoken loudly and clearly. "Don't worry, dear Draco," she said, in her most frighteningly happy tone. "The Black family will rise again, and I assure you that you will be part of its future."

- - -

She saw nothing of Draco for the next two days, which left her feeling fretful and worried. She was not only concerned about what she'd heard, leaving her in desperate need of sending her family a letter, but she also was frightened about whether or not Draco's cool avoidance of her both during and after the party meant that he was angry with her.

It was a dreadful time and it passed with painful slowness.

True to his word, Lucius made a point of being more attentive toward her, and she was practically beside herself with trying to figure out how to dissuade him without being obvious.

It was Wednesday afternoon before she finally caught a glimpse of Draco, riding Barnabas along one of the paths on the far side of the west gardens. Her heart caught in her throat as she became convinced that he'd been avoiding her.

Feeling uncomfortable and completely unhappy, she wandered through her garden, catching a brief glimpse of Draco taking his horse off in the opposite direction, toward the hill. He made a beautiful picture, she thought, as she tried not to stare. The fact that he seemed to be avoiding her only made her feel worse.

She moved down the small meadow, picking wildflowers as she walked along, and her thoughts meandered to times she spent in the meadow near the Burrow when she was a child. She missed her home so very terribly. She'd been so very innocent only a short while ago, and now, after only a few months, she found she had nothing to look forward to, except eventually giving birth to the child of a man she hated almost as much as Voldemort himself. Her one source of comfort now had apparently abandoned her.

Bored, she saddled Hanson and took him out for a short ride toward the pond, taking comfort in the quiet calm of her mount, and hoping to escape the heat of the day by venturing along the shady path. When she finally reached her destination, she sat and stared out at the clear water, thinking that it might be nice to take a swim there, before the summer began to wane.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hoof beats as Barnabas and his rider raced toward her from the far side of the pond. He'd taken the other trail and circled back, knowing she'd be here. But didn't fully understand why he might want to find her, when he was obviously so angry with her.

She was about to turn away from him and go back when he pulled up. She started to urge her horse away, but her hopeful heart stopped immediately when she heard him call out to her. "Ginny, wait."

She looked back to him as he walked up, leaving Barnabas to nibble on the grass. Her confusion was evident. An hour ago, he'd avoided her, now he was asking her to wait.

"I don't blame you for being disgusted with me," she said sadly. "I can barely stand the sight of myself in the mirror."

He appeared confused, and the concern in his expression brought all the emotions she'd kept contained for the past few days to the surface. Tears welled in her eyes and he stepped forward, placing a hand on her knee with such tender concern that she thought she might break. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"You're not angry with me," she stated, and he shook his head to confirm. "Then why? Why have you been avoiding me?"

He looked away, and she quickly deduced that his avoidance had something to do with him trying to keep something from her. He turned away from her, causing her to dismount and follow him.

Placing a hand on his arm, she asked as gently as possible, "Does it have something to do with your conversation with Bellatrix on Sunday?"

His gaze snapped back to meet hers, concern, perhaps even fear flashed in his expression. "What did you hear?"

"Not much, but she's planning something, and I'm sure that it's horrible. Please tell me that you aren't involved."

He said nothing, confirming her suspicion.

"Draco..."

He turned away, and she grabbed his arm forcing him to face her. "What did you do?"

He looked away, his expression almost guilty, before he masked the emotion. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does! How can you possibly go along with anything they do?"

He merely looked at her, and she saw a multitude of expressions cross his features, ranging from guilt to intense determination. Something in her heart told her that he was on the verge of telling her something very, very important. She placed her hand on his arm, silently begging him to let her know that he wasn't betraying her in some way.

He took her hand. "Please don't press me for details. I can't risk telling you," he smiled, before continuing, "but maybe someday you'll be able to tease me about hidden Gryffindor tendencies."

Gryffindor tendencies? Her mind scanned through several possibilities. He was being brave about something, and she couldn't stop herself from thinking that he was trying to help her in some way. "Do you mean...?" He placed a finger over her lips, silencing her. She tried not to let her disappointment show. He was leaving her with enough doubt so that she wouldn't be able to betray him if she was somehow put before Voldemort again. It was horribly frustrating.

But then, her emotions were mixed with relief. He wasn't angry with her over Saturday's party. They each had their individual secrets due to necessity and she'd accepted that long ago. At that moment, he looked at her with the same intensity that made her knees wobble and she decided that it was time to stop talking.

She stood up on her toes, reaching her hand behind his head to pull him into a kiss. He returned it softly, tentatively as if he was unsure, but she persisted. He seemed sad and she tried to reassure him, thinking that, only a few hours ago, it was she that needed the reassurance. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, and she did her best to comfort him through the gentle kiss.

He pulled back, and looked ready to speak, but she placed a finger over his lips to stop him.

"Shhh..." she said with a smile. "We can talk later. Right now, I seem to recall that you once promised me a swim in the lake."

The words brought a small smile to his lips, inspiring her to make him smile further.

She reached for the hem of his shirt, giving it a tug to lift it up and he willingly complied.

"Are you making a request?" he asked, shrugging out of the shirt, the smile coming more easily to his features.

She only nodded, as she reached for the fastenings of her own clothing, stepping away from him as her light summer dress dropped to the ground. He reached for her, but she backed away, a playful smile coming to her lips. Keeping just out of his reach, she divested herself of her underwear, laughing at his pout of frustration.

The sunshine felt wonderfully warm on her naked body as she glanced between him and the calm surface of the pond. With a giggle, she darted away from him plunging into the welcome coolness of the water. She didn't look back, counting silently to herself. She'd reached a count of four before she heard the splash behind her as he joined her in the water.

Turning around, she was swept up into his embrace, and both toppled into the water, all of their previous worries forgotten. She slipped away from him, diving beneath the surface and enjoying the smooth feeling of the water gliding against her skin. The feeling brought back pleasant memories of when she was a child, although it was the first time she'd enjoyed a swim without the benefit of a bathing suit. It was a delightfully naughty feeling.

Her glide through the water was stopped abruptly by someone grabbing her foot,which forced her to resurface and turn to her attacker, sputtering slightly. Her mildly annoyed glare was met by the cool gray of her lover's eyes as he stared back at her admiringly.

"Tease," he said.

She had no intention of denying his accusation, and pulled free, swimming away from him as quickly as possible, once again daring him to follow. She wasn't disappointed. She kicked and splashed, distracting him and wriggling away from him repeatedly, her giggles filling the air. Finally, she began to tire, his stamina winning out over her bursts of speed in the water. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling their naked bodies close.

"How did I ever survive without you, Ginevra?" he asked.

She had no answer for his question, so she simply stared at him for a long moment before giving him a kiss. Every moment with him was something to be cherished, and she tried to commit every detail to memory, from the sunshine reflecting off the water, the water droplets dripping from his hair, and the feeling of every inch of skin in contact with his as they made love on the grass at the water's edge.

She loved everything about him, every touch, every action. She simply loved him. Her heart yearned to tell him, but for now, she remained silent, hoping that her actions were enough.

She rode back alone, her hair still damp from a glorious afternoon swimming in the lake. He'd eased her doubts, at least enough to give her hope.

She saw little of Draco over the next few days, barely long enough for her to take her latest note.

He disappeared for most of the week, and when they did see each other, he seemed distant. Ginny tried not to become depressed over the change, trying to convince herself that he was merely being safe, but there was no denying that her life was far less pleasant without seeing him daily.

Worse, there were other unwelcome changes in her daily routine, and the most disconcerting was that, for the first time, Lucius had begun to speak to her while they shared his bed, and his words could almost be considered tender.

When Draco left for the weekend, Ginny was almost relieved. It tore at her to return Lucius's newfound affection while Draco was present, although she covered her behavior by stating that she was simply uncomfortable with public displays of affection. Fortunately, her husband agreed.

It was on Sunday, when Lucius was once again entertaining a guest in his study, that fate brought about another unwelcome change.

She'd been so preoccupied by hiding her relationship with Draco, that she'd nearly forgotten that she'd been keeping another secret from her husband for the last several months. So, when Lucius called her to his study to introduce her to his most recent guest, she was taken aback.

"Ginevra," Lucius said with a smile, "I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Hawkins."

She smiled, greeting their guest politely, almost surprised that the man didn't have the usual air of evil about him that most of Lucius's friends seemed to exude.

"Are you aware that Mr. Hawkins is a healer?" he asked Ginny.

She suddenly found her mouth had become quite dry. "No...no..." she said, feeling more than a bit nervous that the subject somehow involved her. She turned to the man, giving a small smile. "I'm certain that's a very interesting profession, Mr. Hawkins."

"Indeed it is," he replied, not unkindly.

"I've asked him to see if he can do a quick analysis of your health, Ginevra. I've been concerned," Lucius explained, in a casual tone.

Ginny's gaze moved quickly from the healer to Lucius. This past week of affection that he'd shown her had been so out of character that she wondered if he was aware of how ironic his statement was. He'd had no such "concern" for her health when she was lying semi-conscious on the floor for hours only a few weeks ago.

The healer was professional, casting a few spells, checking her eyes and mouth for any abnormality. Once he finished, he backed away, giving her a courteous smile.

Turning to her husband, he spoke as if she was no longer present. "She's perfectly healthy, Lucius. I see no cause for concern at the moment. She should be able to conceive as soon as the potion runs its usual course."

"Potion?" Lucius repeated.

"Yes, my diagnosis shows that she has a common anti-conception potion in her system. It should clear in two or three weeks, although I would wait a bit longer to insure that there are no complications."

"Of course, of course," Lucius responded casually, appearing as if he was fully aware of the situation. "Thank you, Hawkins. I do appreciate taking time to see to my wife. She was most concerned, you understand."

The healer agreed, and after a short exchange of pleasantries, he left. As the door closed, Lucius turned on Ginny, his eyes showing only a steely cold rage.

"You remain as cunning as ever, don't you, Ginevra?"

She looked down at the floor, unable to meet his gaze. She'd betrayed him and this time she truly was at fault.

"No, My Lord," she said, as demurely as possible. During everyday life, she'd been able to avoid the title, calling him Lucius instead, but this was clearly not a time to appear independent in any way.

"How did you obtain the potion?" he demanded.

She looked down, miserably. She would have exhausted her supply in only a few weeks, but she hated that she had lost the ability to choose for herself. "I smuggled it in when I came," she said quietly. She debated about not specifying how, but he raised an eyebrow in silent question and she knew that if she didn't volunteer the information, he'd force it from her one way or another. "I had small vials hidden in the chess set I brought with me."

"Where is this item?" he asked harshly.

She brought him to her parlor, reluctantly pulling the set from the shelf where she kept it on display next to the picture of her family. Lucius snatched the item from her grasp, verifying that what she'd told him was the truth, then carelessly tossed it into the fireplace.

"Incendio!" he said coldly, pointing his wand at the offending item.

"No!" she cried miserably, as she watched the memento being destroyed by flames. It wasn't just a chess set, it was a link to her family and her old life. Losing it was painful.

"I've been generous to you, Ginevra. You must understand that there will be consequences to disobeying me."

"But, I didn't disobey...exactly," she started to say.

"Do not press me, Ginevra."

"I'm sorry, Lucius," she said.

He turned back to her, an odd gleam in his eyes. "Your ability to deceive is admirable, Ginevra. It would be beneficial if you would use that to ally with me, instead of against me."

She merely nodded in response.

"Nevertheless, I still cannot trust you, and I'm afraid that I must consider further measures to correct your behavior."

She didn't want to know what he meant by his words, although she assumed it would be some sort of the usual physical abuse. She had become numb to that and was almost resigned to her fate.

That night, she waited nervously in her room after they retired for the evening but to her mixed feelings of relief and concern, he never called for her.

Nor did he call for her for the next night. Apparently, since she was unlikely to conceive a child, having been on the potion for so long, he was following the healer's suggestion to wait until the effects wore off.

She found herself with very mixed feelings. On the good side, she had managed to distance herself from Lucius, stifling his apparent affection toward her. But the consequence meant that she would most likely be fulfilling the marital obligation that she had dreaded the most. She now had no way to prevent herself from giving Lucius another child.

---

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	14. Chapter 14 The Birthday Gift

The next two weeks passed tumultuously for Ginny. She found herself spending an excessive amount of time wondering and worrying about whether or not Lucius would find some way to punish her for using the contraceptive potion. She was guilty of deceiving him, as Lucius had been quite clear that his expectation of their marriage was to produce pureblooded children and, based on his past behavior, she fully expected his wrath.

Yet, day after day, nothing happened. What was far more worrying than his initial anger was the fact that he treated her no differently during the day than he had before the incident. Somehow, his cool, normal demeanor signified that there might be something far worse in store for her. So, she felt an odd combination of both relief and concern when he continued to leave her alone during the evening. She could only wonder what would happen once the potion fully left her system.

In addition to that, she found herself also worrying about Draco, who seemed to spend less and less time at the manor, constantly off doing something unknown in the evenings.

Worse, he was spending less time in the stables, apparently having so little time for his charges that he'd sold the two mares and the yearling. When she asked why, he only claimed that he didn't have time, mumbling something about the elves being incompetent if he wasn't there to oversee their work. All further attempts to pry more information from him about his newest activities failed.

Before she even realized it, the third week of August had arrived, and, with it, her birthday.

It fell on a Sunday, and Ginny awoke that morning with a heavy heart. She cursed the fact that fate would be so cruel as to let the day fall on a weekend this particular year. At the very least, had it fallen mid-week, it would have been far kinder to spend her day alone, or, preferably, with Draco, instead of with Lucius.

Hauling herself out of bed, she began to ready herself to face the day with very little enthusiasm.

As she stepped out of the bath, she was surprised to find an elegantly embroidered cream and gold gown laid out for her . It seemed an unusually ornate garment, something that was far better suited for a formal ball instead of Sunday brunch. Nevertheless, she put it on without complaint because she'd long grown accustomed to having her attire chosen for her by Lucius, then waited patiently for her elf to put up her hair.

When she arrived at the breakfast table, she found herself feeling just a bit overdressed and awkward, thinking that the elf must have misunderstood its directions in some odd way.

"Ah, Ginevra, I was concerned you would not be ready on time," Lucius greeted her, his tone disturbingly cheerful.

Taken aback by his good mood, she decided to inquire about her unusual attire. "I apologize, I wasn't expecting to have to dress so...formally this morning."

He almost smiled. Clearly, he was pleased about something, which immediately made her feel more than just a bit wary.

"It is your birthday, is it not?"

"Yes, Lucius, it is," she responded. She had dearly hoped that he would ignore the day. With almost all her heart, she didn't want to think about her twentieth birthday being even acknowledged. It was a day where she belonged with her family, eating cake and laughing with her brothers. She didn't want to celebrate such a day here, living in this house, with this man.

She ate her breakfast in silent misery without any further comment from her husband. After his initial greeting, he had settled into his usual Sunday routine of reading the Sunday edition of the Prophet as he enjoyed his meal. She gave a weary sigh, thinking that her presence was quite unnecessary, especially dressed in such ridiculous attire.

After she finished, she waited quietly for him. He eventually glanced at the clock on the mantle, carefully placed his paper aside and made to get up from the table, his disturbingly cheerful demeanor once again returning.

"I have arranged a surprise for you. Come, Ginevra, we will be greeting our guests in the formal parlor."

For a moment, she had a wild and unrealistic hope that maybe he had invited some of her family to see her for just this one day. Even if he didn't trust her to have an open conversation with any of them, even if Lucius never left her alone in the room with them, she would be grateful to simply be able to give her mother a hug.

They walked toward the grand entryway and into the formal parlor. Ginny crinkled her nose at the thought that they would be using that particular room as it was far from Ginny's favorite. Unlike Narcissa's parlor in the back of the manor, which was bright and filled with furniture that was both inviting and elegant, this room was dark and spoke of extreme formality. Everything about the room conveyed wealth and strength. It was a room intended to impress or intimidate, rather than welcome, a visitor.

Still, it was a beautiful room. The dark walnut paneled walls held a multitude of antique weaponry, including gleaming swords. Suits of armor stood near the corners, as if guarding the property, and the furniture was trimmed in gold leaf, and covered in deep, emerald-colored velvet.

As they entered the room, Ginny noticed that two of the guests had already arrived, and she felt her heart sink. Of course, Lucius would have arranged for a gift that suited him instead of her. She quickly reminded herself that she'd been a fool to consider, for even a moment, that he would have done otherwise.

Rudolphus Lestrange stood near the windows, arranging a large palette and painting utensils, while his wife Bellatrix sat nearby, attempting to entertain the small child she held in her lap.

Bellatrix looked up as the Malfoys entered, and her face immediately brightened with its usual maniacal gleam. "Lucius, my dear, and his lovely little wife Ginevra!" she cackled, clearly and disturbingly delighted to see them.

Ginny had been introduced to the pair before, at one of the weekly parties they'd had to attend. She'd made a point of avoiding their company ever since, as Bellatrix, in particular, unnerved her. Lucius was, by all regards, an avid and loyal supporter of Voldemort, but Bellatrix was far more than that. She was a fanatic, a person who was clearly unstable. She was someone who delighted in making those who opposed the Dark Lord suffer.

But Ginny didn't linger too long on the witch because her gaze was quickly drawn to the dark haired child who had also turned to the newcomers. Upon seeing her, the little boy squealed in obvious delight, wriggling out of Bellatrix's hold and ran to her.

"Aunt Ginny!" he squeaked, immediately morphing his features to emulate red hair and bright blue eyes. He looked almost exactly like the toddler version of Ron, and Ginny's heart dropped. She immediately knelt down and opened her arms to scoop up Teddy Lupin into a warm embrace.

Bellatrix immediately began to scold the child for his impulsive display. "Theodore!"

"Why is he here?" Ginny interrupted, effectively stopping Bellatrix, who appeared to be furious that the child had lost interest in her. Teddy had already stiffened in her arms, making Ginny tighten her hold and feel more than protective.

Rudolphus looked at her with annoyance. "He's our son," he stated flatly.

"But..." Ginny stammered as the small boy tugged at the shiny pearls on Ginny's gown, clinging to her tightly.

"Ginevra doesn't care much for politics," Lucius explained. "I haven't kept her fully informed of the latest news."

His statement was only partially true. She rarely read the news, because Lucius typically burned the paper after reading it each morning. Not that it mattered much, since The Daily Prophet had become so heavily monitored and controlled by the new government that very little useful information could be gleaned from it. Aside from that, though, he brought almost no news from the Ministry, and Draco only told her bits of information, although she seemed to be certain that he held back from telling her everything.

There was only one law that she could think of that could be so ruthless as to bring Teddy Lupin into Bellatrix's care. Ginny felt her blood run cold. "I...I thought that the Heritage Law was for Purebloods..." she stammered.

"Not entirely," Lucius explained, his smile now looking to be rather condescending. "It was written to protect children from improper families."

She'd often wondered if Voldemort's horrid Child Heritage Law might have been enacted in the months since she'd first heard about it. Lucius had made certain to never mention it again after the incident where he'd beaten her in the hallway. Yet, the idea of the atrocious law had frequently come to her thoughts. She'd worried even more about it during the past two weeks, thinking that perhaps her family would be targeted due to Lucius' anger over the incident with the potion.

Now, she couldn't help but wonder if Teddy's presence had somehow been a result of her act of rebellion, although it was highly unlikely. While Teddy had affectionately called her "Aunt" Ginny, it was only because he'd spent a great deal of time at the Weasley house in the past. She doubted that Lucius had any knowledge that she'd known the child prior to coming to live at the manor.

Bellatrix appeared to regain her gleeful demeanor after the explanation, apparently convinced that Ginny had some sort of interest in the subject. She clapped her hands together and looked at Ginny as if she were sharing a particularly juicy bit of gossip, "Yes, and thanks to that wonderful law, we now have the opportunity to reestablish the Black family line!"

"What?"

It took a supreme act of will, but Ginny decided to suppress her initial urge to strike out. She'd learn nothing by letting her temper get the best of her. Her only hope was to suppress her feelings and feign interest in whatever had gotten these three maniacs so delighted.

She moved to the nearest seat, pulling the child into her lap, smiling at him as best she could until he relaxed, seeming having forgotten about his recent reprimand. The wonderful thing about Teddy was that he was a quiet child and was now fully engaged in pulling at the ribbons on her dress, keeping him occupied as she attempted to continue the conversation.

"I mean," Ginny said, trying with all her heart to appear interested instead of appalled. "That's wonderful, but I'm not sure I understand."

Fortunately, Bellatrix had become entranced with her own prowess and was eager to gloat over her victory. She moved into her explanation, barely pausing to catch her breath.

"Oh, the Dark Lord saw that the last of the Black family line would be gone soon, because Draco is not allowed to marry, at least not until he can prove himself, and since my horrid former sister tainted the bloodline. I'd all but given up hope that there would be no one to continue the family, but then," she said, an evil gleam in her eye, "the Dark Lord saw fit to modify the law to protect our future generation from unfit influence."

Ginny fought back tears as she realized what had probably happened. "Teddy's parents weren't fit to raise a Black heir," she said flatly.

"Can you imagine?" Bellatrix said with conviction. "A Black heir left to be raised by a werewolf and a miserable half-blood?"

"No," Ginny said miserably. "No, I guess I can't." She looked at Teddy, so sweet as he cuddled against her, ignoring most of the conversation. She didn't want him to be present for this conversation, but there was no way to remove him unobtrusively.

Thoughts of the times that Remus or Tonks had come by the Burrow with Teddy flooded her mind. She had often babysat while his parents had gone out on dangerous missions, and had become quite fond of him and his parents. The little boy was infatuated with the Weasley red hair, and had taken to emulating it every time he entered the house, even as a small toddler, much to everyone's amusement.

"But, he isn't a Pureblood..." Ginny said, her words sounding lame to her own ears, as if the excuse might make them change their minds about keeping the child.

"Well, nothing is perfect," Bella said, her voice dropping in disappointment. "But his father was, and his mother half, so Theodore will be raised understanding the value of bloodline. I am certain that a suitable marriage can be arranged to help him and his offspring. After a few generations, this blemish will be forgotten."

"How did you manage it?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking as she asked.

"Well, only the mother was home when we arrived. She put up a rather difficult fight, unfortunately. We were hoping not to dispose of her, but she gave us no choice," Bella explained casually, as if she were discussing the weather. "The father, well, he arrived too late to interfere."

Dispose? Tonks was dead? Ginny fought to suck in a ragged breath. Her friend Tonks was dead, and Bellatrix had made it sound as if killing her was nothing more than an inconvenience.

Rudolphus took the child from her and Ginny released him with great resignation. However, her facade was firmly in place, and, as Mrs. Lucius Malfoy, she knew that no good would come of her causing trouble. As it was, she had the opportunity to see Teddy, and might have more chance of it in the future if she played the game today.

"Now, now, Theodore," he said sternly. "You must not disturb Ginevra. She must look proper for her portrait."

"Portrait?" she said, somewhat stupidly.

"Really, Ginevra, you must learn to speak in complete sentences," Lucius chided, the tone of his voice indicating that her behavior was bordering on unacceptable. She willed herself to appear calm, although, inside, she was beside herself with anger. The emotion brought color to her face, and Rudolphus, oblivious to her inner turmoil, made a comment that her blush would be excellent for the portrait.

Rudolphus directed Ginny to sit in one of the chairs near the window. Her birthday gift was to be a portrait of herself, as the new lady of the manor.

Cornelius Yaxley and his wife Viola arrived shortly after, and it was rapidly becoming apparent that the painting of a portrait seemed to be a good reason to throw a party, although Ginny was not aware of the custom. She soon deduced, from the bits of conversation that took place, that the atmosphere of a gathering during a painting was beneficial to capturing the subject in a more natural way.

By the time Ginny was posed and Rudolphus had set the magical paintbrush to work, the others had seated and were sipping wine, gossiping happily amongst themselves. Ginny had her own glass in front of her and was debating about the benefits of over-imbibing in order to encourage the afternoon to pass more quickly, or at least, painlessly.

She soon found herself grateful for the fact that magical paintings only took a few hours. Sitting near the window, feeling upset and miserable, she recalled hearing Hermione say that Muggle paintings could take days, or even weeks of sitting to complete the final product. She remained lost in her own thoughts for most of the afternoon and, for the most part, the others in the room ignored her while the magical supplies did their work. Occasionally, Rudolphus would check to verify the progress.

Ginny was on her third glass of wine when the conversation turned to something even less palatable than their previous discussion of Voldemort's latest plans.

"So, Lucius," Bellatrix said in her smoothly evil tone, "how is it that you managed to attract such a young and pretty thing to replace my dear sister?"

Lucius' somewhat jovial mood dissipated almost immediately at her words. If Ginny knew anything, she knew that nothing annoyed him more than mention of his first wife.

"Come now, Bella, you know better than to talk about that," Rudolphus chided his wife before taking another sip of his wine.

"The subject has to come up at some point," she retorted with her usual irreverence. "It's been long enough. I truly would like to know."

"She approached me, Bella. If you insist," Lucius responded dryly.

Bellatrix got up and walked over to Ginny, eying her playfully. "Now, Ginevra, I find it hard to believe that you married to suit your own ends. I didn't think that you were the type for such manipulations."

"It was a mutually beneficial arrangement," Ginny replied, as evenly as possible, trying to give a small smile to emphasize her point.

Bella laughed, rocking back as she did, clearly finding the response amusing, her harsh tone forcing Ginny to involuntarily shiver.

"Oh come now, my dear, 'beneficial' hardly makes it sound romantic, and you clearly seem the type that would choose romance over convenience."

"Bella, enough!" Lucius commanded.

But Bellatrix was not the least bit intimidated. If anything, she seemed quite the opposite. From every conversation that Ginny had overheard in past months, Bellatrix was a favorite of Voldemort's. She obviously reveled in the Dark Lord's favor, enjoying the power it allowed her to wield. Lucius, it seemed, had no influence over her whatsoever.

She leaned over to whisper to Ginny, quietly enough so that the others couldn't overhear. "Tell me, girl, who is it that you really think about when you're in the bedroom, hmmm?"

Ginny blanched at the audacity of the remark while Bella, unperturbed, smiled as if she'd learned an evil secret.

Just then, the familiar popping sound of someone Apparating into the entrance hall caused the members of the room to turn toward the door.

The timing could not have been worse. Draco had returned from his weekend and walked past the arched entrance to the room. He stood in the doorway, apparently surprised to see visitors, but quickly recovered by entering the room to offer a polite greeting to his father's guests.

Bellatrix didn't miss the look on Ginny's face as she momentarily glanced at the young man.

As Bella chuckled, Ginny looked up at the older witch in fear. Bella's smile widened as she said, still in a harsh whisper, "I don't blame you, my dear, he's quite the handsome one. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

With that, Bella's eyes sparkled in a hideous display of playful mischief and Ginny felt her blood run cold. Bella knew. With a single glance, the witch knew about her feelings for Draco. She fought to keep from visibly trembling.

Draco was about to turn and leave, when Bella interrupted with her usual flair.

"Come now, Draco, my darling, you must join the party! I hardly ever get to see my handsome nephew and now is as good a time as any. Things were just getting interesting."

She walked over and took Draco's arm before he had a chance to leave gracefully.

"Isn't Ginevra beautiful today, Draco? Your father has decided to have her portrait done in honor of her birthday. Did you know that?"

Draco smiled indulgently at his aunt. "I wasn't aware, but had I known you were going to be here, I probably would have come sooner." With that, he leaned over to kiss her on the cheek, and she simultaneously turned to kiss his, leaving behind a blood red streak from her lipstick. She used her thumb to wipe the mark away.

Draco's demeanor turned from almost timid politeness, to pompous almost immediately. Ginny was surprised, but Draco's tone had turned attention away from her and the previous line of questioning. She'd never watched Draco actually interact with anyone other than his father, and she wondered if it was how he had managed to survive among them.

The others returned to their previous discussion about staffing at the Ministry, leaving Ginny to focus on the side conversation between Bella and Draco.

"So, my love," Bella continued, her teasing tone returning. "I see so little of you. Tell me what you do here all day while you're father is at the Ministry doing the Dark Lord's work."

"It's quite boring, Bella. Nothing that would interest you, I'm sure." he said, smiling at her.

"I know you, boy. You have some sort of devious plan in place to return to the Dark Lord. You were given this time to think about what is truly important to you, were you not?"

"I think I have some idea," he returned, using the same falsely playful tone.

She looked meaningfully back to Ginny, while still addressing Draco with her words. "The Dark Lord wanted to grant you the time to find what might be important enough for you to kill for. Should I tell him that you've found it?"

Draco laughed, and Ginny barely recognized the sound. It wasn't anything like the laugh that she'd often heard from him while they were together. The laugh was false and harsh and almost evil, and, to Ginny, it sounded like it belonged to a completely different person. She hated it.

The old Draco had apparently returned for this occasion. He was the same awful boy she'd seen in school, and the same stiff aristocrat that had looked down upon her when he first saw her in his house. She found herself fighting the feeling of bile rising in her throat.

He leaned in toward his aunt, hushing to a conspiratorial tone, just loud enough for Ginny to hear. "You are evil, Aunt Bella."

"Bella!"

Lucius had apparently picked up upon the conversation when the two dropped their voices.

"Oh, come now Lucius, I'm only teasing the boy. You should know better than to interfere with me."

"I am the only one to interfere with my son."

Draco took his aunt's hand, "I should go, and leave you to your party. I'll see you again soon?" He lifted her hand, kissing it briefly but with affection, and nodded to the others in the room as he left, ignoring Ginny entirely.

Ginny sat for several long moments, frowning slightly until Lucius chastised her about ruining the portrait. It had been painful to see Draco like that. It was like he was one of them, talking to Bellatrix as if he was plotting something, and they both insinuated that it involved her. She wondered how much of it was an act, since he seemed so natural in the role. But, she quickly reminded herself, that he was using the same tactics she did, where he literally shoved a piece of his soul aside so that there was no chance for a skilled Legilimens to detect deception. She wished she had managed to use the tactic for this party, but she had been reluctant due to Teddy's presence.

To her immense relief, the magical brush chose that moment to finish its task, settling itself back to its box. She was finally released from the humiliating experience of acting the part as the Mistress of the Manor. After that, she spent the obligatory time admiring the portrait, even though she detested the thing, and thanking the Lestranges for the use of their charmed painting supplies.

It had been the longest, most horrible birthday she'd ever known.

The conversation began to die down after the painting completed, yet Ginny was compelled to remain among the group. The afternoon was eventually turned to evening and Teddy had managed to take a short nap, but had been given no food during the entire time. She quietly asked the elf for juice and sandwiches while the others were distracted by one of their passionate discussions about the glorious reign of the Dark Lord, ranting about some Muggle village that they'd recently found reason to wreak their havoc upon.

She ignored them, holding the tired child on her lap as he ate a sandwich and slurped his juice enthusiastically, eventually cuddling in her arms to fall asleep. She found herself also beginning to feel drowsy. The events of the afternoon had been emotionally draining, but she was unable to relax due to the fact that she was among wolves and had to remain on guard.

Oddly, Voldemort himself was responsible for her rescue. It happened just as her companions poured themselves yet another round of Firewhiskey when, suddenly, Lucius clutched his forearm in pain. The others recognized the reaction at once, smiling in approval.

"The Dark Lord summons me, my friends," he said roughly over the pain. "I'm afraid we must cut our evening short."

She scoffed at the thought that their visit had been anything one might consider "short." Nevertheless, she found herself reluctant to release the now sleeping Teddy to his aunt's care so that they might leave. She worried for his well-being, knowing that Bellatrix would do anything in her power to mold him into a person who would fit into Voldemort's idea of an ideal world. She vowed that she would do her utmost best to interfere with Bella's plans for him as she handed him over and looked at his sweet face, so peaceful in sleep. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever comprehend what had happened to his mother.

Lucius turned to her. "Please see to our guests. Do not wait up for me," he instructed, turning to give her a quick kiss goodbye. It was to be one of his formal kisses, reserved for their public image, but at the last moment, she couldn't bear to kiss him on the lips, and turned her face so that his kiss landed on her cheek. The gesture still appeared appropriately affectionate, but Lucius was well aware of her diversion and paused to give her a disapproving look as he left quickly to attend his summons.

She bid her guests good-bye, briefly mentioning to Bella that she would enjoy having her bring Teddy to visit again, hoping privately that any visits would provide some sense of normalcy for the child, despite her revulsion toward his adoptive parents.

When the door closed behind them, she leaned her back heavily against the wall and released an exhausted sigh of relief. She had a terrible feeling that she truly would be seeing more of them, especially considering they had mentioned that they wished to arrange a future betrothal with a second or third born Malfoy child, should Lucius' plans for her become reality.

Overall, it had been a horrible day. In fact, it had been far worse than almost any she'd known before, and now that it was over, she wanted to mourn the loss of Tonks, a woman she'd once admired and considered to be a friend.

She couldn't help but feel some remorse and guilt over the fact that she couldn't have done something more to prevent that particular tragedy. It was unlikely. She hadn't overheard anything in previous conversations during the weekly social gatherings that indicated Bella's intentions. Ginny couldn't help but feel disgust for that small part of her ancestry that caused her to be related to that family.

She was grateful that Lucius would be gone for some time that evening. Calls from Voldemort almost always meant that he wouldn't return until morning at the earliest. She'd grown accustomed to Lucius not spending his nights with her these past few weeks, but his recent remarks seemed to indicate that he fully intended to resume their physical relationship in the very near future. Voldemort's summons meant that it would be delayed for at least one more night, and she felt relief that she could have some time to herself to grieve.

As she trudged up the grand staircase, she realized that, more than anything, she needed reassurance that her actions didn't have a direct impact on Tonks's death. When she reached the top of the stairs, instead of turning toward her own room, she walked cautiously toward Draco's, giving the heavy door a soft knock.

He must have been expecting her, because it was only a few moments later that the door opened to reveal the man she'd come to love, his hair slightly mussed, wearing only his pajama bottoms.

"May I come in?"

He nodded in reply, stepping back to allow her entry.

She hadn't been in his room since that fateful day in late June, when they'd made love for the first time. Oddly enough, she realized that she had little memory of the room itself, and, as she walked in, she glanced around, taking in the warm tones of the furnishings and linens. There was less green in the room than she'd imagined, instead, the tones were earthy and warm, as opposed to Lucius's preference for dark and foreboding.

She looked at him and felt her body begin to relax by simply being near him. He was her only source of sanity in this mad world in which she was entrapped.

"They murdered Tonks to get possession of Teddy," she said bluntly. Even as the words left her lips, she felt a renewed sense of disbelief and horror. She hadn't been allowed to mourn the loss of her friend, and somehow, speaking the words brought a renewed sense of grief.

He looked at the floor, his expression unreadable. "I know," he said slowly, awkwardly. "I didn't realize that you knew her."

She didn't know what to say about her lost friend, but somehow it felt better the she had at least acknowledged her. A tear escaped and fell down her cheek as she thought of first meeting Tonks at Grimmauld Place so very long ago. "I met her a few summers ago. She used to bring Teddy over to the Burrow occasionally," she explained miserably.

He stepped forward to put his arms around her in comfort, and she let her head drop onto his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he continued. "I tried to warn them, but..." he paused, looking visibly upset. "I guess Lupin didn't believe me. They weren't looking to kill her, but she wouldn't give up Teddy without a fight."

She felt a small sense of relief as she reached around him to return his embrace. He rested his head on top of hers, and she suddenly realized that some of his unexplained disappearances during the past weeks had likely been due to his intention, and subsequent failure, to warn his cousin. The thought brought her mixed feelings, but then, looking at his distraught expression, ot occurred to her that perhaps he needed to be reassured that he at least tried to prevent the tragedy.

Pulling him closer, she reached a hand up to the back of his head, laying a soft kiss on his neck. The smell that was uniquely his overwhelmed her with comfort. His embrace seemed to alleviate the hurt that she'd been feeling. Afraid to let him go, she continued to place soft kisses on his neck. It only took a few minutes before his embrace began to change from one of comfort to something more passionate, as his hands began to move from her waist to trace her curves.

The feeling was familiar now, and she felt a small smile come to her lips as he kissed her on the top of her head, slowly moving to kiss her temple, her cheek, and then her nose. It was with a hint of sadness that she realized that it was likely the first time she'd smiled during the entire day.

She shoved the thought aside, refusing to allow the memories of her unhappy day interfere with the moment. It was her birthday, after all, and she finally had a chance to be with one person of her own choice. She closed her eyes and concentrated completely on the joy of being held.

His hands had wandered up to her hair by the time she'd completed the thought, and he was soon loosening the elaborate hairstyle that she'd worn all day. As the long strands of hair fell free, she allowed the pain and stress fall away with it. She sighed audibly in relief.

"Whoever would have thought that touching your hair would cause you to sound so erotic?" he said, with a soft, teasing laugh.

She groaned again, exaggerating the sound of pleasure in her voice. "I've had a terrible day, and you are the only thing keeping me sane. Now, be a good boy and help me out of this horrid dress."

"Yes, Ma'am," he agreed, looking as if he needed her touch as badly as she needed his.

Clothing discarded, she sat on top of him on the bed, straddling his waist as she ran her fingers over his chest, admiring the smoothness of him, the lean muscular lines. He was well-built and she enjoyed memorizing every inch of him, tracing the contours of his shoulders and chest with her fingers. She smiled affectionately as he closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her touch, his face relaxed in a peacefulness that she only saw when they were alone together.

She wriggled lower to run her fingers along his waist, tracing the light tan line that she loved so dearly. She decided that she was going to hate winter, when she wouldn't be able to enjoy watching him out in the sun. But, that was a worry for another day, as she quickly became far more interested in the fact that he was hardened and practically begging for her touch. She moved lower, wrapping her hand around him and gently stroking him. He groaned in satisfaction, and the pleased look on his face inspired her to tease him a bit.

With a devilish grin, she down to kiss his chest and gently ran her fingers up his sides, delighting at his reaction at being tickled.

"Enough, witch!" he grumbled happily, stopping her evil ministration by grabbing her wrists and pulling her toward him.

"You will be the death of me, you know," he said playfully, as he flipped her on her back, positioning himself comfortably on top of her, and pressing her into the softness of the bed.

He kissed her soundly, and she once again allowed herself to become lost in the feeling of him. His kisses, his touch, his scent became her entire world, pushing away all the nightmares that existed beyond. She wrapped her arms around his neck to run her fingers through his hair, trying to touch every part of him with her own body.

She gave a soft gasp, delighting in the feeling of him, cherishing the closeness, and, as he entered her, she felt well and truly loved. As was usual, they didn't speak, both afraid to put the intimacy of their actions into words that might only haunt them later, but she felt the emotion of their lovemaking with every gentle caress. At times, the overwhelming tenderness took her breath away.

He came powerfully, emptying himself into her, and she held his sweaty body close for a long moment before he rolled to the side. Wanting to remain close, she reached her arm across his waist, lying half on top of him as her hair draped over his torso, wishing that they could remain just like that for the rest of the night. She longed to simply drift off to sleep in the comfort of his embrace, but she knew that would never be possible.

Too soon after regaining her breath, she pulled away with no small amount of regret. "I should go, before he returns and notices I'm missing," she said softly.

He nodded, although she could see a look of sadness darkening his face. He was just starting to open his mouth to respond to her, when a voice came from near the foot of the bed.

"Unless, of course, he's already returned," the voice said, coldly.

Both of them froze, staring at each other in wide-eyed shock for a long second before turning identical gazes toward the direction of the voice.

Ginny slipped to Draco's side, focusing in the dim light just in time to see Lucius gradually appearing before them, his hand still in motion as he removed the disillusionment charm from himself. While there was no telling how long he'd been in the room, there was no question that he'd been there long enough to have full knowledge of their interaction.

Pulling the sheet up to cover herself, Ginny sat up in the bed, speechless.

"Shyness now, Ginevra? Please, spare me," he said, almost sounding bored. Then, turning to Draco, he continued, his tone changing to contempt. "Quite an interesting show, actually. One might even call it beautiful, if I was so inclined, except for the fact that one of the participants so happened to be my wife."

Draco gave an audible gulp, but said nothing in response. There was nothing that could be said, actually. No lie or excuse could possibly affect the outcome of the situation, and both of the guilty parties were well aware of that fact.

Lucius continued, his tone now taunting, "I must say, I've never seen her behave with quite so much... shall we say... passion." He turned to glare leeringly at Ginny. "It would appear that you've been training her quite well."

She looked down in shame, feeling dirty under his gaze, causing her to pull the sheet up closer to her body. Regardless of her emotions on the matter, she was quite aware of the fact that she'd been unfaithful to her husband, and, deep down, she couldn't help but feel the wrongness of her actions.

"Ginevra, I was hoping that today had offered an adequate lesson regarding the consequences of one's actions," he said just a bit too calmly, a bit too condescendingly. She began to tremble slightly. Such calmness was always a precursor to something particularly horrible, and his wand was now pointing toward her in a menacing way.

"Don't blame her, Father," Draco interrupted.

Ginny looked over at her lover, fearing the worst: that Lucius would inflict the punishment on him instead of her. Lucius couldn't use his wand against her, but there was no preventing him harming his son.

Draco continued, however, despite her silent wishes that he would stop. "I was only using her for my own ends," he said, almost casually. His words might have been cold, but there was no mistaking his body language, as he had moved himself into a position to shield her from Lucius's wand.

The cruel smile that lit the older man's face led Ginny to believe that Lucius didn't believe the lie either.

"Get up," Lucius ordered, motioning to his son.

Time seemed to move slowly for Ginny as she watched Draco get out of the bed, keeping eye contact with Lucius the entire time. There was no way that he could get to his wand to defend himself, so he was helpless to do anything but follow his father's demands.

After Draco exited the bed, he began to reach for his shirt, in that moment, with the speed and grace of a snake striking, Lucius struck, his wand distubingly accurate.

"Crucio!"

Draco gasped, convulsing in torrents of pain.

Ginny shreiked in horror, the word "No" beginning to form onher lips, but Lucius turned toward her, keeping his wand solidly focused on his son's writhing body. "You wish to say something, Ginevra?"

She'd jumped forward, unconsciously moving toward Draco, although she had no clue how she might help him. "Do not move, Ginevra, or I will kill him."

She stopped, staring at the older man helplessly. "Lucius, please..."

He smiled wickedly, apparently oblivious to the pain he was inflicing upon his own son. "You are begging me for yet another favor?"

She nodded, biting her lip and clutching the sheet to her in desperate fear. She poured every ounce of genuine emotion into her expression as she silently begged her husband to stop torturing the younger man.

Lucius gave a momentary smile in victory and the curse ended as quickly as it started. Draco lay on the floor, shaken and in obvious pain for some time before slowly lifting his body from the floor. Ginny remained on the bed, wanting desperately to help him up, but fearful of moving in case Lucius would follow through on his threat to kill his own son. Lucius merely shifted his gaze between the pair of them, the sneer on his face deepening as the moments passed.

As soon as Draco pulled himself to his feet and appeared capable of motion, Lucius once again aimed his wand in a sharp, commanding motion. "Get dressed," Lucius ordered.

Draco grabbed his clothing and pulled it on haphazardly. Lucius turned to Ginny. "For both your sakes, I would hope that you are not carrying his child," he said coldly, motioning for her to get out of the bed as well.

She stood, wrapping the sheet around herself as she awaited her own fate. She was trembling once again. and, outwardly, one might have taken it to be fear, but she was also angry, and feeling fiercely protective of Draco. Without conscious thought, she readied herself to defend him, if necessary. Draco seemed to know her intent, and, in a brief moment, caught her gaze, giving her a barely perceptible shake of his head.

Turning to look at Draco, Lucius spoke coldly toward his son. "You are fortunate that I have not yet sired your replacement, Draco," he said. "Or I would be dearly tempted to end your life here and now." He glanced at Ginny, giving another cold smile before again speaking to his son. "But I cannot allow such treachery to continue. You will leave this place immediately and, from this day forward, as long as I am Master of this house, you may not return."

Ginny gave a small gasp, looking over at Draco for his reaction. To her surprise, he appeared calm, and only met Ginny's gaze long enough to give her a slightly sad look. He'd been expecting this, she realized, as she remembered his words "know that I've got someplace to go when my father decides to be rid of me."

But she still had no idea where that place might be, and, with that thought, she felt a tightening in her chest. Wherever he was going, it was a place that was well hidden from his father, and she suddenly realized that, if it was a place that meant to be difficult for Lucius to find, with all his money and resources, that it would be near impossible for her to locate. Draco had kept the location secret from her to prevent her from accidentally giving the information to Voldemort or Lucius under Legilimency and, now, she couldn't help but feel cheated that he'd never told her.

She didn't have time to dwell on the thought because Lucius continued to speak, picking up Draco's wand from the side of the bed. "Know this," he said, with every ounce of menace that she'd ever heard in his voice. "If she is carrying your bastard, I will track you down and you'll watch me terminate the child before I terminate you."

Ginny barely remained standing as her knees began to shake uncontrollably at the sound of the words. She watched as Lucius handed Draco his wand, keeping his own carefully trained on his son. Draco only had a moment to give Ginny a deep look of regret, and then, he left his childhood home for the last time.


	15. Chapter 15 The House Guest

She found herself on her knees on the floor of her bedroom, crying uncontrollably while Lucius stood in front of her.

After Draco's reluctant departure, Lucius had pulled her from the room by her hair, as she hastily tried to wrap the sheet more securely around her body. He hauled her down the hallway to their own set of rooms, causing her to stumble as she attempted to keep up with his long, angry strides. She said nothing, merely allowing a small whimper to escape as he shoved her into her own bedroom, causing her to trip over the excessively long piece of material she was using to cover herself.

She landed roughly, one hand reaching out to break her fall as the other held the sheet from falling off. The sharp pain in her wrist told her that she'd been injured again.

The tears that rolled down her face had little to do with the physical pain, however. She was truly afraid of what her husband might do. Unsure of whether it was the cold air of the room or sheer terror, she felt herself begin to tremble as she awaited the punishment for her unforgivable crime.

Lucius stood over her, his eyes blazing with barely controlled fury, and something deeper, almost resembling pain. What frightened her most was that he said nothing for many long minutes.

When he eventually spoke, his voice was gruff and his words surprised her. "Is this how you thank me, Ginevra?"

She shook her head. There was nothing that she could possibly say in her own defense.

He continued to glare at her in silence, either at a loss for words or waiting for her to volunteer some form of explanation. Whatever the reason, she couldn't decipher. Finally, the weight of the silence compelled her to speak. "I'm so sorry, Lucius," she said. And she truly was. Sorry that she was caught, sorry for bringing down his wrath, and, more than anything, sorry that she would possibly never see Draco again.

"I won't ask why," he stated coldly. "Treachery is a way of life." Then, he gave another pause, sounding disappointed, he finally said, "I had expected more from you."

Not that Ginny cared about not living up to his expectations, but she did carry some small amount of guilt. In her heart, she knew that she had been morally wrong, because, no matter how much she hated Lucius, he remained her husband. She hung her head in shame.

"I protected your family, Ginevra," he said after a long moment. "Were you aware that Yaxley's wife wanted to take your eldest brother's child as her own, much like Bella took the Lupin child? But for you, I stepped in."

She looked up to see if he was telling the truth, not quite able to believe that he might have voluntarily protected her own beyond the scope of their agreement. Just at that moment, he reached up to release the clasp of his cloak. Seeing his hand draw back, she flinched, expecting a blow to land across her face. He stopped mid-action, staring down at her with a sneer.

"You expect me to correct you again," he said, then released a cruel chuckle. He paused for a moment, the side of his mouth curling into a vicious smile, and he reached down to caress the side of her face. "No, dear Ginevra, the time for that is past. I tried to educate you, but apparently, I have failed."

She continued to shiver violently, as if the coldness in his voice chilled the room even further. He moved his hand to grasp around her throat, not tightly, but firmly enough to frighten. She closed her eyes.

"You can't kill me. It's part of the contract..." she said, not sure if even the magical bonds that held them both obligated to keeping the terms of the contract would stop him from snapping her neck.

"No, Ginevra. I cannot kill you," he said, releasing her. "I would very much like to at the moment, however." He released a deep breath, his anger seeming to suddenly disappear, his expression turning to something akin to hurt. It left her feeling deeply confused.

She rubbed at her neck nervously, as he began to pace, his eyes remaining on her, reminding her of a large, deadly predator. She said nothing, moving her hand to rub her sore wrist, grateful that the injuries seemed relatively minor, but she fully expected that to change shortly.

"You are fortunate that the Dark Lord has called me away this evening. I had only returned to bid you farewell, and to invite Draco to accompany me," he told her, bending slightly so that his face was closer to hers. "I only entered his room after he failed to respond to my knock. When I first entered, I thought he'd brought home one of his weekend whores and was preparing to simply give him a slight reprimand. Imagine my surprise to find that his companion was my wife."

She held back a small whimper, and felt tears spring to her eyes at the memory of Draco's last glance at her before being banished from the house.

" Alas, the Dark Lord's final victory will not include him..." he said in mock concern.

In a way, the fact that Draco was being excluded brought her a small amount of relief, enough for her to clear her thoughts.

"You'll be leaving?" she finally managed to say, her voice sounding hoarse and choked.

He laughed, the sound harsh with sarcasm. "Why, my dear Ginevra, will you perhaps miss me?"

Her thoughts ran madly. Lucius had told her that he would be called away as part of the plan to trap Harry as part of the "final" victory, as he'd called it. She suddenly realized that this was vital information that, if she could send word to her family, would help Harry. But, Draco was gone, and now, truly, any possibility of sending a message had gone with him. A fresh stream of tears fell down her cheeks as she suddenly realized that she may have condemned Harry as a result of her own selfish actions.

"I was also going to tell you that you will have a companion to stay with you during my absence," he replied, then paused to look at her, as if to gage her reaction. "Bella has graciously offered to stay with you, since you seem to be so very helpful with her child."

Bella. Ginny felt bile rise up in her throat. The woman made her insides churn with distaste, but, alternatively, she realized that the crazy witch would be bringing Teddy to stay as well.

"Thank you for your generosity, My Lord," she replied shakily.

"Generosity has little to do with this, now," he responded. "I will inform Bella to keep a close watch on you. I cannot even imagine what other ways you have found to betray me. While I find your treacherous quality intriguing, I promise you that it will end soon enough."

"Yes, My Lord."

"Do not misunderstand me, Ginevra. You will not have a choice in this matter."

His tone chilled her, as he walked out the door, closing it behind him with unexpected calm.

- - - -

She slept very little that night, only catching a few hours due to sheer exhaustion. Lucius's words hung heavily on her mind. But he was now gone, giving her a bit of a reprieve, and she hoped that his mission would keep him away long enough for his anger to abate.

Bellatrix Lestrange arrived mid-morning, bringing with her a half-dozen elves, a nanny, and enough baggage to make Ginny wonder if she was moving in permanently.

The only positive thing about her arrival was that she brought Teddy. Seeing the toddler seemed to help Ginny quell her rampant worries, and while the older witch and the nanny were making themselves comfortable in the suite of rooms adjacent to her own, Ginny took the opportunity to spend time with the child.

Teddy was, of course, excited to begin exploring his new surroundings and Ginny was overwhelmingly grateful for his presence. He was young enough to be completely oblivious to the worries of the world. Ginny found herself finally begin to release much of her pent up tension as she followed the child around, assisting him as he crawled on, under and around various furnishings, his cherubic smile calming her more than any potion or draught possibly could.

As they explored the various rooms together, Ginny found herself looking at each of the rooms with a new perspective. Initially, her intention had been to make note of anything that might be potentially dangerous to a curious toddler, but, later, as they wandered about the house, Ginny found herself noticing the rooms and furnishings much as she did when she first entered the mansion six months prior. Once again, she found that she admired the previous Mistress' skill in decorating.

As she took in the tasteful colors and fabrics throughout the house, she came to a rather profound realization: In all her time, she'd never changed a single thing in the house, although she'd been given permission to do so. That in itself was nothing notable. The house was lovely and she had little desire to alter what she considered perfection.

No, her desire to leave the house untouched held a deeper meaning for Ginny. As she looked about, she realized that attempting to alter anything to suit her personal taste would somehow give her ownership of the mansion. That it would somehow transform her into truly being the Mistress of the estate. Ginny had truly resisted that role, and still had no desire for that. She continued to think of herself as simply an unwilling visitor.

What was disturbing, however, was the way that Lucius had looked at her the previous evening, after his anger had diminished. He had somehow started viewing her differently, as if she belonged there, with him, almost as if he truly thought of her as his wife. The thought made her feel slightly ill.

She hadn't thought about her husband's first wife in some time, and looking about had once again brought forth many of her previous questions about the woman. Ginny knew she had loved her son to the point of sacrificing her life for him, and, as someone who cared about Draco as well, that made her important to Ginny.

Once again, Ginny found herself wishing that she had known Narcissa. Unfortunately, she barely knew what the woman even looked like. Her husband had banished her portrait to storage shortly after her death. Ginny thought that action was odd, considering Draco's comment that his parents had actually loved each other, because she found the idea of Lucius being capable of love to be quite absurd.

Yet, as she followed Teddy around, she found herself realizing that, at one time, this had been a home. The décor spoke of warmth and family, even in the elegance of the formal rooms. Clearly, there was an echo of happier times in this place.

Bella eventually found them in the library, where Ginny was trying to locate the section that held children's books. Taking Teddy from her, Bella stared disagreeably at the child's hair, which was once again morphed Weasley red. Obviously, the fact that Teddy was a Metamorphagus would cause Bella no small amount of annoyance.

Ginny only smiled, attempting to contain a condescending tone toward the older witch as she motioned toward the little boy's hair. "Unfortunately, he's too young to reprimand over his choice of coloring."

"So I'm told," Bella replied, looking annoyed. "I'm hoping he'll grow out of it, but being around you seems to have influenced him."

"You should be proud that he has so much ability at such a young age," Ginny replied, trying to sound appropriately haughty. "That's an impressive use of magic."

"Of course he's powerful," Bella replied, raising her chin in pride. "He's a Black. Aren't you, my little darling?"

Internally, Ginny felt a moment of relief wash over her. She'd successfully manipulated Bella into appreciating the toddler's talent, but she was sure that her attempt had only been luck. Bellatrix Lestrange's unpredictability frightened her, and Ginny worried for her own welfare, as well as that of the sweet child that was now in the madwoman's care.

----

Over the next few days, Ginny adjusted to the new routine of the household, leaving her feeling as if she was on a roller coaster of emotions. First, she had to deal with Bella's presence in the house, which brought her a great deal of stress, but that was countered by the joyful presence of Teddy. Then, far more devastating, was the absence of Draco.

She found herself missing him constantly, worrying about him, and trying to come to terms with the fact that she might never see him again. The thought made her almost sick inside.

But finally and most importantly, she found herself to be overwhelmed with relief when her monthly cycle came, letting her know that she wasn't pregnant, and Draco's life would not be in danger if Lucius chose to follow through on his recent threat.

So, in an odd way, Bella's presence in the house gave Ginny the distraction that she desperately needed.

It was with morbid fascination that Ginny discovered, over one of their shared meals, that Bella was obsessed with writing a book about the glorious accomplishments of her Dark Lord. That, in itself, was welcome news, because it seemed to keep the mad witch busy and out of Ginny's daily activities. Unfortunately, Bella managed to claim Ginny's parlor and desk for use in the project.

Ginny quickly learned that, while the loss of her personal space was more than a bit annoying, there was no use in countering Bella's wishes. Bella was an irresistible force, determined to alter the world to her own liking. It was best to simply stay out of the way.

As the days passed, and the household settled into the new routine, Ginny found herself spending every spare moment in the nursery with Teddy and trying to become acquainted with the nanny. She was only partially successful.

The good news was, with Bella preoccupied with her book, she was hardly in the company of her newly acquired child. Despite the madwoman's initial interest in raising Teddy as her own, she had an extremely short attention span when it came to actually spending time with the toddler. It was welcome news.

Unfortunately, Teddy's care was entrusted to his nanny, Veronique, who seemed extremely serious about her duties, making her rather poor company for Ginny. Eventually, Ginny was able to learn, from their infrequent conversations, that Veronique was only a half-blood who considered herself extremely lucky to have gained employment in the current political climate. She had no wish to jeopardize her job by countering anything that Bella had directed, and that seemed to include establishing a friendship with Ginny.

It resulted in Ginny's time with Teddy to be somewhat limited. Still, they managed to work out a mutually beneficial situation, allowing Ginny to spend time with Teddy, giving the nanny some amount of personal time.

But her time with Teddy brightened her days. Ginny looked forward to every visit, and would frequently spend time making mud pies with the child and helping him toss rocks into the calm water of her swamp. She brought him to see the horses, and even managed to get him to sit on a very patient Twinkle for a while. But, at the end of each day, when she returned Teddy to his nanny's care, she began to realize that she would miss him quite terribly when Bella returned to her own home.

It made Ginny think that, maybe, just maybe, she might enjoy having a child of her own to raise, even if it might belong to Lucius. At the very least, it would give her someone who would occupy her time.

---

One quiet afternoon, her time with Teddy over for the day, Ginny decided to wander the grounds, something she hadn't done since Draco had left.

The weather was pleasant and the gardens beautiful, despite the hint of fall in the air. She wandered down the path toward the pond, and stared out at the water, allowing the memories of swimming and playing with Draco to come forth. She rarely let such memories surface, but the peaceful solitude offered her a safe haven for her rebellious thoughts.

As she walked along the shaded path, out of sight of the house that was her prison, she paused, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she'd actually considered some of her time at this place happy. It made her future seem all the more bleak.

Without warning, she felt arms suddenly grab her from behind, pulling her off the path. As she opened her mouth to scream, she felt a hand clamp firmly over her mouth as her assailants other arm wrapped around her waist. She felt panic wash over her as she began to struggle, trying to reach for her wand, but the arms around her held her firmly in place.

After a long moment, she recovered from the initial shock, and realized that the arms around her felt familiar, even comforting. She stopped struggling, and managed to turn her head enough to verify that she recognized her attacker. Her body went limp with relief.

Her captor seemed to sense her acquiescence and released his grip, allowing her to turn around to face him. Seeing his face, her suspicions were confirmed.

"Draco," she said, almost breathing the word, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the moment.

He looked down at her, a lazy half smile lighting his handsome face. She felt as if the sun had finally returned after weeks of rain.

Not allowing herself to quite believe her eyes, she reached up to touch his face, tears filling her eyes. "Is it really you?"

He didn't speak, but simply nodded, turning his face to give her hand a brief kiss.

"How did you..." She paused, still not quite believing that he was really there. "He sent you away, banished you. I heard him. I thought the wards..."

Her mind raced. She had been there when Lucius had uttered the words that had banished him from the house. Family wards were quite responsive in that regard, and would have adjusted immediately when the Master of the household stated that Draco could not return.

He placed a finger over her lips to stop her questioning and smiled. He gave her a soft kiss on the nose before he responded, "When he spoke, he only specified that I could no longer enter the house, he never mentioned the grounds."

She looked into his eyes as if she truly could not believe what he was saying. "A loophole..." she gasped.

He nodded. "It took me a few hours to calm down enough to realize exactly what he said to me. But then, I had to be sure that there weren't other wards set to warn him. That took a bit of time," he replied. "Besides," he continued, "even if he did ban me, I'm still heir to the property, and the magic allows me some rights. I could still gain entrance if it was truly important."

He gave her a small sly smile, and she couldn't help but think that it looked rather endearing. There was no malice to his expression, just a hint of pride and a touch of smugness at his skill at manipulating the situation. She gave a deep sigh.

"One has to be very specific when dealing with Slytherins, Ginny. You should know that by now," he said, looking just a bit smug. He wasted no time, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close, releasing a deep sigh of relief when she relaxed into his embrace.

He gently brushed the hair away from her neck, nibbling the skin lightly causing her to become lost in the sensation of being near him. It was when he moved the focus of his kisses from her neck to her mouth that she finally believed that it was him, not some figment of her imagination, or worse, some trick contrived by Lucius.

His kiss was soft, yet demanding, as if he was afraid she might break under his touch. The tenderness nearly did cause her heart to constrict with longing. She'd missed him horribly, and the thought of being near him again was overwhelming.

She forced herself to pull away. "I was so worried about you..." she began to say.

"I told you that I'd be fine."

She desperately wanted to know where he had gone, and whether or not he was truly hidden from his father and Voldemort. As she opened her mouth to ask the question, however, she felt a pang of fear. He was endangering himself by coming back.

"You shouldn't be here. If he finds out..."

He winced, and she felt his hold on her momentarily tighten.

"You're putting yourself in danger to see me," she stated flatly.

He nodded, then let his head fall back, his eyes closed as he seemed to think about how to respond. After a long moment, he took a deep breath, still not looking at her, and then began to explain reluctantly, "I kept telling myself that it was better for both of us if I didn't come back."

He opened his eyes and looked at her with an intensity that took her breath away. Bringing his hand up to brush a lock of hair off her forehead and gently traced the back of his fingertips along the side of her face, he continued, "I'm a coward, you know. I was supposed to go into hiding and stay there indefinitely. I had it all planned out so that I could live a nice quiet life."

She reached up her hand to cover his on the side of her cheek, leaning into his touch. She loved him, without question, and it appeared that she was ruining his plans for escaping the madhouse that Voldemort had created. She was afraid to speak her next words, but they were quite necessary. "Then you should go."

He grasped her hand, and brought it to his lips, kissing the knuckles softly. "Silly girl. I tried that, and I couldn't stop thinking about you, worrying if you were all right."

She looked away, unable to withstand the intensity in his eyes. She'd hurt being without him, but, now, being with him and feeling the emotion, while knowing she couldn't have him, was almost worse.

He kissed her then, banishing any logical thought from her head. His kisses were like a drug that made her body hum in excitement, and she decided that, while she might send him away forever, she wanted to make certain to cherish her last time with him.

He pulled her closer and nothing else mattered. The humming in her body seemed to shut out the tiny voice in her head that was screaming about the danger of being with him again. Coherent thought left her entirely as she felt a determined need to touch every part of him, to make sure that he was real, and solid, and hers.

He pressed her up against the tree, clearly as desperate for her touch as she was for his, and it seemed that this was the one thing she could never deny him. Moving aside only enough clothing as was necessary, she wrapped her legs around his waist and eagerly allowed him to plunge into her.

She tried to memorize every moment, even the rough bark of the tree pressing into her back as he entered into her. The sensations were heightened by a rush of adrenaline, and she felt truly alive. It was as if, without him, a part of her had been missing, and she wrapped her arms more tightly around him, clinging to him like a lifeline.

All too quickly, he groaned in release, and collapsed against her, pressing her more firmly against the tree. She ignored the discomfort, as he dropped his head into the crook of her neck, breathing heavily. Her only response was to reach her hand to the back of his head, playing with the soft strands of hair, now damp with sweat from his exertion.

"I'm sorry," he said, somewhat breathlessly. "I should have been more thoughtful."

A small smile played on her lips, as she pulled him closer. "I'm sure if I disapproved, I would have told you."

He moved away from the tree, his hands supporting her under her bum, and carried her to a soft section of grass, where they'd made love once after swimming on a warm summer day. Her heart clenched as she thought of the happy memory.

He leaned back on the grass, pulling her with him, so that she lay partially on top of him, and he idly began playing with her hair. The look on his face was so happy and content that it nearly broke her heart. She looked into the silver blue eyes that held such a comforting warmth, and knew that it was going to be very difficult to actually say the words to send him away. But, it was far too dangerous for him to be found with her again.

"You have to go, Draco," she finally managed to say.

But he didn't respond to her statement, changing the subject instead. "I'm not going to let him hurt you again."

"He didn't hurt me," she said, thinking back to Lucius's ominous parting words to her. He hadn't hurt her yet, but his words implied something worse. She had no intention of sharing that with Draco. "In fact, it's been almost three weeks since I've seen him. He left right after you did and he hasn't been back since."

"I know."

She thought his remark was strange, but had more pressing things to talk about first. "He said he was going to take you with him. That's why he went to your room."

He bit his lip and looked in the direction of the house again, as if worried about responding.

"Draco?"

"Bella's here with you," he stated, turning to look in the direction of the house, although whether he was avoiding her question, or simply preoccupied with the fact that his aunt was present at the manor, she couldn't tell.

"She's here. And she also brought Teddy and a nanny, but she leaves me alone usually during the day."

"He'll be coming back soon, Ginny. Voldemort's plan to lure Potter into the open isn't working, so there's no use in keeping agents out for much longer."

Sadly, she agreed. It was time to begin talking about matters she'd rather not discuss. "Is this the part where you try to convince me to leave again?"

His expression told her that, yes, it was.

"Nothing has changed, Draco," she said, feeling a deep sadness settle in as she spoke the words she knew she had to say. She moved away from his comforting warmth and sat up, unable to look at him directly as she said what she needed to say. "I made my decision a long time ago. I'm going to accept the consequences."

As expected, his reaction was unpleasant. He stood up, looking at her in frustration. As she moved to follow him, he began to pace, running his hand through his hair. They had avoided this topic for the past few months, but there was no denying that it made him angry that she refused his offer to help her leave.

"Nothing's changed? God, Ginny, how can you say that? Are you mad?"

His anger hurt more than any beating Lucius had ever inflicted on her. She cringed at his words, because, quite frankly, she agreed with him, but she had little choice in the matter. She had to make him understand.

"If I leave now, he'll know you're responsible. I can't do that."

A look of pain mixed with another emotion crossed his handsome features, so she continued to try to convince him. He knew she was right on that matter. If Lucius suspected him, they would both be in grave danger.

"He won't hurt me if I stay here," she added, with more conviction than she actually felt.

Draco's expression darkened even further, his anger and disgust over his father's past action showing clearly. "He's hurt you before."

It was another difficult subject, one that they had avoided talking about in recent weeks. She hated that it had to be discussed, but there was little choice if she expected him to understand.

"I mean that he can't damage me very badly," she said, hoping she sounded convincing. "Certainly, he won't do anything life threatening, because he needs me to be healthy. He's indicated that he's done with treating me that way, anyway. He said so before he left."

"Somehow, that is not a comforting thought," he said bitterly. "He'll find another way."

"He can't hurt me with magic, Draco. It's in the contract."

"That still doesn't make me feel better." He reached up, stroking the side of her face, his anger gone, but a deep sadness now clearly etched on his features. He stepped in closer, wrapping his other arm around her waist and pulling her close once again. "I'm not going to leave you here alone, Ginny."

She closed her eyes, taking comfort in his embrace. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was supposed to send him away, for their own safety, but she couldn't bring herself to say the words.

"I can stop by on Wednesday afternoons. I'm fairly certain I can make it to the carriage house undetected. You can meet me there."

"Yeah," she agreed, feeling both guilty and eager.

"Good," he replied,giving her a quick kiss before releasing her. She reached out to touch him as he stepped away, and he gave her small smile before turning to leave.

----

She walked back into the house, her emotions in turmoil. She was wrong to be willing to see him again, for so many reasons, but, on the other hand, her heart felt like it had started beating again. She could almost feel the skip in her step as she wandered by her swamp, giving it a fond smile as she she strode past. Draco was safe, and he had found a way to see her. She had something to look forward to again.

The world suddenly seemed so much brighter than it had only a few short hours ago. Realizing that her raw emotions would likely be noticed, she took a moment to carefully school her features and thoughts before entering the house. She tucked her feelings into the corner of her mind, keeping them safe.

Her efforts were, unfortunately, in vain.

As she walked past the parlor, she found Bella waiting for her, with an expression that could only be described as gleeful.

She gave Ginny a pout, "And here I thought that things were going to be far too dull. How is our dear Draco, darling?"

Ginny felt as if all the air had been sucked from her lungs.

"D...Draco?"

Bella's pout turned into a feral grin, as she motioned for Ginny to follow her into the parlor, sitting back lazily in her chair, as if delighted about whatever she'd discovered.

"Oh come now, Ginevra. No need to play coy with me. I'm not as blind as Lucius was over this."

Forcing herself to remain calm and breathe, Ginny found that she had absolutely no idea how to respond. "But..."

Bella only waved her hand, dismissing Ginny's comment before it could be spoken.

"I knew he'd come back to see you," she said brightly.

Forcing her control to remain in place, Ginny managed to appear calm, while her inner-Ginny remained locked in the back of her mind, practically screaming in panic. "I don't know what you are talking about," she replied, silently cursing herself for being caught so very unprepared for this encounter.

Bella ignored her remark, however, waving her hand dismissively as she stood to look out the window, in the exact direction where she and Draco had just met. "As soon as I heard Lucius had banished the boy, I knew exactly why," she said, glancing back at Ginny with a satisfied grin. "I've suspected my dear nephew had some sort of plan involving you for some time, but I don't think he was expecting to be found out quite so soon."

The older witch paused, still looking at Ginny thoughtfully while drumming her long, blood-red nails on the window sill. "But, being the smart boy that he is, he obviously prepared accordingly."

Ginny only stared at her in confusion. Wasn't Bella's purpose here to ensure against exactly this type of scenario? Lucius had clearly stated that he wanted her to have a companion in the house to keep her from further defying his wishes while he wasn't around. Apparently, Bella's intentions differed.

Ginny's mind worked frantically to analyze the situation and she suddenly realized that the one common trait among Slytherins seemed to be that they enjoyed playing games amongst themselves. Ginny had had plenty of opportunity to observe their behavior during her months in captivity. It actually gave her a headache trying to keep track of all the backstabbing she observed during the social gatherings she'd attended.

They had no issue betraying each other, and only seemed to work together when they believed it was mutually beneficial. They divulged information sparingly, only if they felt it was in their best interest to do so, and they also very much enjoyed gloating over particularly clever plans.

Thinking back to the snippet of conversation she overheard between Bella and Draco, Ginny decided to see if she could entice the witch to share some aspect of her scheme.

"You have some sort of plan involving Draco," she stated, trying to sound as interested as any Slytherin would.

Bella smiled, gleeful to share her apparent prowess on the matter. "Oh, I have several plans involving our darling Draco," she confirmed, looking quite pleased. "I hadn't planned on any of them to involve you, but it looks like his plans and mine are tying together quite nicely."

Internally, Bella's words were deeply disturbing, and Ginny immediately tucked the feeling away to analyze later. Externally, Ginny only gave an almost bored look, and stated casually, "I don't suppose you care to inform me of any of these plans."

Bella laughed, which was expected. "No, of course not. But it's making my stay here so much more interesting. Isn't it?"

"Of course."

With those words, Bella moved back to her seat, picking up the quill she'd dropped on her desk when Ginny had arrived. The witch turned back to her work, now ignoring Ginny, but her grin still firmly in place.

Seeing that Bella had finished disseminating information, Ginny decided to leave gracefully, stating that she wanted to go upstairs to change. She hoped to steal some time with Teddy before dinner, since time with the child calmed her.

As she turned to exit the room, she heard Bella add one final taunting remark. "Oh, and give Draco my love when he comes to visit again, won't you?"

Apparently, Bella seemed to approve of her seeing Draco, but her words gave Ginny a cold feeling inside.

- - -

Ok..folks ... posting here is slow because, well, I don't get much for feedback/reviews. so, that makes me assume that this is crap and you don't like it. yet... the traffic to the story tells me that might not be the case. hmm....

Writing is a lot of work. Please review. Thank you.


	16. Chapter 16 Into the Madness

A/N - a nice long chapter for you... Enjoy! Thank you for all the reviews last chapter. I'm sorry I was unable to respond to all of them. I've been tremendously busy. I did go to the HBP premiere in NYC last week, and it was total mayhem. No, I didn't see the film, but did get to see the actors stop by us in the crowd. Wish I brought something to sign! Got 2 signatures for some stranger behind me though! LOL

---

When Lucius returned a week later, he was in a foul mood.

Ginny was unlucky enough to be near the entryway when she heard the crack of apparition that announced his arrival. When she turned toward the door, she caught sight of her husband with Rodolphus Lestrange at his side, looking tired and slightly disheveled. His expression upon recognizing her managed to darkened ominously, reminding her vividly of how furious he was when he left almost a month ago. Apparently, his time away had not softened his feelings.

Husband and wife stared at each other for a long moment, a moment which was mercifully interrupted by the sound of Bella, squealing in glee, as she raced to the entryway to greet her own husband. Ginny turned at the distraction, just in time to notice Bella almost dropping Teddy on his head in her enthusiasm, and likely would have, if not for the diligence of the nearby nanny.

The interruption, however nearly tragic, was welcome because it managed to give Ginny enough time to compose herself before moving to greet Lucius. Her action was far more subdued than Bella's. She approached him meekly, her hands shaking as she tentatively reached up to embrace him. He stood stiffly at first, then relaxed, giving her a light embrace and a kiss on her cheek. It was an awkward moment, at best.

The timing of his arrival could not have been worse. It was Wednesday afternoon, and Lucius's presence effectively thwarted any plans Ginny had to spend the afternoon in the carriage house waiting for her meeting with Draco.

The circumstances left her with mixed feelings, not that she wanted Lucius home, but that, not seeing Draco, left her emotions in a turmoil. While she desperately wanted to see him, she was well aware of how dangerous it was for him to return, and she had fully intended to end things with him, in the hope of keeping him safe. In a way, she was grateful that her decision would be postponed, although it was likely only a short reprieve.

For now, her full attention was directed to the two men standing in the doorway, both appearing frustrated and angry. Fortunately, she quickly realized that their immediate anger was not directed at her.

"The mission was compromised," Rodolphus reported to his wife, and Ginny noted that the other witch's cheerful expression immediately turned to shocked disappointment.

Bella turned to look at each wizard individually before speaking accusingly, "Do you mean to say that the Potter spawn is still alive?"

The pair of curt nods that were given in response to the question told Ginny that, yes, Harry was still alive.

She breathed an audible sigh of relief at the news, and Bella turned to give her a sharp look, obviously disapproving of her reaction. Lifting her chin, Ginny looked back at them coldly. She pretended many things as the wife of Lucius Malfoy, but she could not, would not fake that she was unhappy that someone she loved remained alive.

"While I appreciate the fact that you would rather Harry not be around to oppose your Dark Lord, I would think that you might at least address him respectfully. If he's important enough for you to target, then he at least deserves that much."

She caught a gleam in Bella's eyes, which might have been interpreted as a warning, or possibly respect. Either way, she turned away, hoping to leave their company.

"Ginevra," she heard Lucius say coldly.

"Yes, My Lord?" she responded, her voice returning to the respectful tone she used when addressing him.

"We will be having lunch in the west dining room, after Rodolphus and I have a chance to wash and dress appropriately. Please inform the elves," he said, no hint of malice in his voice, although she was certain he was seething at her rebellious words.

"Yes, My Lord."

"She may have a point, Lucius," Ginny overheard Bella say before she was out of earshot. "Trivializing Potter leads us to underestimate him and his kind."

Ginny cringed, but continued walking, cursing her burst of temper. But then, another thought came to her so quickly that she nearly stumbled: Bella had turned Lucius to thinking that her comment was helpful, not rebellious.

In effect, Bella had helped her. The realization was mortifying.

- - -

Over lunch, conversation about the failed mission continued.

"What happened?" Bella demanded, almost as soon as they were seated at the table, barely pausing as the plates appeared before them.

Lucius scowled at the sharpness of the witch's tone, and Ginny couldn't help but notice that, although Lucius sat at the head of the table, Bellatrix had the more dominant presence. Rodolphus Lestrange, normally a forbidding wizard when alone, seemed to shrink into the background.

Attempting to appear unaffected by Bella's accusing tone, Lucius focused on his meal. "Rodolphus's potion didn't work as expected," he said, giving an angry glance in the direction of the other man, who was eating his meal and giving every indication that he wished he was someplace else.

"But surely it worked well enough," she responded insistently, turning her sharp gaze to her husband. "You tested it extensively."

"On Muggles," he replied tiredly. "Apparently the effect is weaker on wizards."

"But still, if properly done..." Belly said, obviously annoyed with their excuse.

"Threats don't work if they can't be acted upon," Lucius responded, dropping his silverware with a resounding clank, showing his irritation at her insinuation that they'd been incompetent. "Word got out about the potion's ineffectiveness, Bella," he said impatiently. "Threatening to use it against Potter's loyalists became useless."

Ginny ate her lunch in silence, listening with morbid fascination. If there was one advantage to Bella living in her house, it was that the conversations had suddenly become much more informative.

Rodolphus picked at his meal, looking uncomfortable under Bella's angry glare. Apparently, his failure to complete the potion did not bode well for him. "The Dark Lord is most displeased," he stated.

"Indeed," Lucius agreed, taking a sip from his goblet of wine. "He suspects one of our own may have deliberately released the information."

"Someone who was assigned to the mission. Accusations are running rampant," Rodolphus added.

The implication that there might be a traitor seemed to successfully divert Bella's interest away from Rodolphus's failure to complete his potion.

"Do you have any idea who the traitor might be?" Bella asked, clearly angry.

The others shooks their heads in unison, and Ginny suddenly found herself grateful that Draco had not been on the mission. Such an implication would definitely lead to some sort of investigation among Voldemort's followers. If so, it would likely be discovered that Draco had been exchanging correspondence with her family, and he would likely have been suspected and punished severely. In a way, the fact that they'd been caught on that particular evening might have inadvertently saved them both from a worse punishment.

"So, what do you intend to do about it?" Bella snapped back.

Lucius picked up his silverware, attempting to hide his annoyance. "We will finish the potion. It will be useful regardless. Rodolphus has elected to remain here in the Manor so that we can work together in my Potions laboratory."

"Since you were already settled here, my dear," Rodolphus added, looking almost meek as he addressed his wife. Bella merely raised an eyebrow, looking at him as if he was little more than a house elf. Ginny quickly gathered that the witch's earlier excitement when he arrived was due to her expectations that they'd succeeded in their mission, not because she was actually happy to see her husband return.

Bella was clearly a witch to be feared, if a man like Rodolphus Lestrange cowered in front of her so easily.

Ginny continued to listen with rapt interest. She'd heard bits of conversation regarding the development of Rodolphus's potion for some time, and her mind was working furiously to piece together everything she could remember.

"What does it do?" she blurted out, almost impulsively, causing the others to look at her as if they'd suddenly remembered that she was in the room.

Lucius gave a slight shake of his head in the direction of the others before addressing Ginny. "It's none of your business, Ginevra."

A burst of anger bubbled up inside her. She wanted answers, since their conversation implied that people she knew were likely targets, and Lucius's threat before he left still hung heavily in her thoughts. She turned to him with an accusing glare. "Did you target anyone in my family?"

Her husband's expression turned decidedly darker, which was impressive, considering his already temperamental mood. "You may go, Ginevra," he commanded, ignoring her question entirely.

The collective expressions of the others in the room turned somewhat hostile, and Ginny decided that it was in her best interest to vacate the room. She detested their company anyway.

Tossing her napkin on her plate, she rose and departed in a huff, not caring if it angered her husband further. She was afraid for her friends and family, and the frustration of not knowing what might happen to them was wearing on her emotions. As soon as she left the room, she heard Lucius cast a silencing charm, effectively inhibiting her from listening outside the door.

Annoyed, she decided to visit the nursery. Spending time with Teddy was always a joy, and now, with the return of Rodolphus, Ginny suddenly realized that, at some point, the Lestranges would return to their own home, and take Teddy with them.

She sighed sadly at the thought of Teddy leaving. She would have to treasure what little time she had left with her favorite toddler, worrying about his future.

"Hello, Veronique," Ginny greeted the nanny, who was sitting by the window, reading a book to Teddy.

The little boy, upon seeing her enter, immediately began to squirm impatiently away from his caretaker, giving the woman an inadvertent kick to the shin as he scrambled from her grasp.

"Theodore!" the nanny scolded sharply. "You must first ask permission!"

Ginny watched as the child gleefully ran toward her, his hair automatically changing to Weasley red.

Under normal circumstances, Ginny would have knelt down to welcome him, ignoring Veronique's words, but living in Malfoy Manor was by no means normal. In this environment, Teddy was expected to learn his manners well. Ginny realized that circumventing such a lesson would be a disservice to him, if he was going to survive in the ultra-formal world that he'd been adopted into.

She crossed her arms and looked sternly at the child, although the action was incredibly difficult.

Teddy stopped, looking confused for a moment. "Teddy, you need to apologize to Miss Gilbert for being rude. The little boy's expression immediately widened in surprise. He was obviously unaccustomed to being scolded by Ginny and seemed unsure how to react. Ginny motioned toward Veronique, and he eventually turned back to his nanny.

He shuffled his feet, avoiding the expectant expression on the nanny's face, his face saddening and his hair turning a muddy brown. "Sorry," he muttered.

"That's good, Theodore," Veronique replied politely, giving him a gentle smile, causing his expression to brighten again.

It was a simple interaction, but somehow, it broke Ginny's heart. Teddy would eventually adapt, and she worried deeply for him.

- - -

The remainder of the day was spent peacefully enough. Ginny joined the others in the front parlor, listening to Rodolphus and Lucius relay the rather mundane details of their mission, which consisted of them waiting for Harry to appear near their alleged victim.

She sat quietly, pretending to read a book, and hoping that they might let more relevant information slip. Unfortunately, they managed to choose their words carefully.

In front of the others, Lucius treated her no differently than he had before her birthday. He was polite, albeit formal, showing no hint of displeasure or malice. It was after the others left, however, that Ginny could almost feel the chill of his gaze, and it quickly became clear that his anger toward her had not subsided.

She'd been so focused on the conversation about their mission, that she hadn't thought much about what might happen after. Her throat became suddenly dry, and she avoided Lucius's glare, fearing that he'd finally determined her punishment. Memories of horrible nights with him in the past flashed through her memory and her hands began to shake.

Yet, he said nothing.

Hoping to leave the room without making matters worse, she meekly put down her book and began walking toward the door, fearing what the upcoming night might bring. "I'll go up to bed now," she said. She took a mere two steps toward the door before Lucius spoke.

"I have not forgotten, Ginevra," he said coldly, causing her to stop mid-step.

"I understand, My Lord," she replied carefully.

"No, I don't think you do. I promised there would be changes."

She looked at him, biting her lower lip in worry, a fleeting glimpse of meeting with Draco flashing into her mind. She now knew for certain that she could not afford to meet with him again, and it made her heart ache. "I know, My Lord."

He lifted his chin, looking at her superiorly. "I know what is best for you, Ginevra. Soon, you will understand," he said, his tone leaving no room for discussion.

She nodded, leaving the room as quickly as possible.

It was hours later that she finally fell asleep, worrying that Lucius might call for her. He left her alone for the next two weeks, spending his evenings working in the potions laboratory with Rodolphus and returning to his work at the Ministry during the day. Bella remained Ginny's guard during the day, leaving Ginny more than enough opportunity to spend her afternoons at the carriage house both hoping and dreading for Draco to make another appearance, knowing that it would likely be the last time she would ever see him.

- - -

By the third week, there was still no sign of Draco, and she started to hope that he had decided to not come back, saving her the pain of asking him to leave. It was about that same time that she realized that something was terribly amiss.

She'd been feeling off lately, but had been willing to ignore it due to stress. Unfortunately, she couldn't ignore the fact that she'd missed her monthly cycle as well and that her breasts were tender. She'd heard enough of her sisters-in-law complain about the signs so suspect the truth.

After spending the next two nights lying awake, worrying, she finally gathered the courage to cast a charm to confirm her suspicions.

Now, the consequences of her recent actions were staring at her in bright blue swirls over her abdomen.

The charm had been easy enough to perform. It was something that seemed to be used often in a family as large as hers. Her thoughts then drifted back to happier times, remembering when she'd first practiced the charm on her sister-in-law. It had been a fun thing to do when Angelina had become pregnant, and the family was together to celebrate the happy announcement. But Ginny found nothing joyous in performing the charm this time. The bright blue told her that she would be expecting a boy, and she had never felt so completely devastated.

It had finally happened. When she signed the contract more than six months prior, it had been with the knowledge that she would be obligated to have children. At the time, it had been humiliating to think of herself as being used in such a way, yet, the idea had been abstract. Faced with the impending execution of her family members, she'd been willing to ignore the fate of herself, and subsequently, a not-yet-existent child.

It was a completely different feeling to know that, now, her actions included another human being.

Several long minutes later, still feeling stunned, she walked outside, hoping to clear her thoughts. Her feet seemed to follow the familiar path toward the carriage house without any conscious effort, gradually bringing her past one of the fields where the three remaining horses were grazing. Twinkle noticed her first, and wandered over to the fence, looking eagerly for the bunch of carrots she'd pulled from her garden.

"It's nice to know you're glad to see me, even if it is just for the treats," she told the little gray horse.

It gave her a soft grunt as it reached for the leafy green tops of the plant in her hand.

As the animal munched, Ginny scratched behind Twinkle's ears. The little horse seemed to lean into her, giving Ginny a sense of comfort that she desperately needed.

Tears ran down her face at the simple comforting action, from an animal, of all things.

"I'm in a right mess, Twinkle," she told the beast, leaning her head into the gray horse's neck. "I should have told him why I can't leave. I'm sure he's going to come back, and when he finds out about this, he's going to demand that I go, and I can't. I just can't."

The horse said nothing, but did seem to be particularly happy about the spot she was scratching, so she continued to talk about her problem.

"I'm afraid, Twinkle. I don't know what to do," she said. "Lucius is still angry with me, and if I don't do something to get him to..." she couldn't say the words aloud, not even to a horse. "He's going to figure out soon enough that I'm pregnant, and if he does anything to hurt the baby, or Draco, I don't know if I could live with myself."

She stood there for a long time, rubbing the soft velvety nose of the little horse and drew a sense of calm from simply being in its company. As she stood there, she suddenly found a deeper understanding of what initially drew Draco toward the beasts, and why his love for them seemed so very deep.

Staring into the dark liquid eyes of the gentle creature brought her a great deal of peace.

More than peace, she thought. The solitude had allowed her to clear her thoughts well enough to come up with a plan.

-----

A few days later, she wandered into the carriage house with her book, as had become her routine now that the cool fall weather had settled in. The small tack room had taken the place of her parlor as her private sanctuary, and nobody in the household seemed to find her regular forays to the building out of the ordinary. She'd all but given up hope that Draco would return, although now, she desperately needed him.

"I see you've taken over my office," a voice said from the shadows.

She jumped, giving a small squeak before fully registering the owner of the voice. With a mixture of relieve and severe trepidation, she turned to face him.

"Was it really necessary to frighten me like that?" she replied, a bit more sharply than she intended.

Draco stepped out the the shadows, looking more than contrite. "Sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I didn't want to risk being seen, in case you weren't alone."

She nodded, letting out a shaky breath. "I know. I didn't mean to snap at you. I've just been a bit on edge lately."

"Are you all right?" he asked.

There he went again, being kind. She wondered if he would continue to be so after she made her request.

She tried her best to sound calm and detached, but failed miserably. When she opened her mouth to speak, her voice cracked from fear and sorrow. "Draco, I need you to find me a healer, someone I can trust, who won't tell Lucius that he's seeing me."

His cheerful expression vanished immediately and he moved to her side, taking her hand. The intensity of his expression was nearly enough to make her burst into tears. "He didn't hurt you again did he?"

She shook her head. "No. He's barely spoken to me since he returned."

"He hasn't touched you?" he sounded so very hopeful that she almost felt awful to say that it was actually bad news.

"No, he seems barely able to tolerate being in the same room with me. He's still angry, obviously. But, in a way, it's worse because I don't know what he's planning to do with me."

He gave her a small smile, moving forward to put his hands on his shoulders, looking into her eyes. It was a comforting gesture, but the worry in his eyes was quite apparent. "Why do you need a healer, then?"

She suddenly found it hard to breathe, because she didn't want to tell him why and, more importantly, didn't want to tell him what she planned to do.

"Please, Draco. Can you find someone?"

"In order to find someone, I need to know what's wrong, so that I can find one with the right skills," he said, his tone hardening just enough to let her know that he wasn't going to let her manipulate him. She dropped her shoulders in defeat.

"I'm pregnant."

The stunned look that came to his face almost broke her heart. Never had she seen a look of such utter shock and unhappiness on him. He looked as if he'd just been informed of a loved one's death.

She bowed her head, in shame.

"I'm sure my father will be pleased," he said, a slight shake in his voice.

"It's not his, Draco," she said, looking at him seriously. "I told you, he hasn't been anywhere near me, not for the past two months."

His jaw dropped, and she watched the color drain from his face. In another setting, the expression might have been considered comical. She felt a tear roll down her cheek as she tried to contain her emotion.

He started shaking his head, apparently disbelieving her words. "How... I mean... I thought you were using a charm when we..." he stammered.

She closed her eyes and sucked in a shallow breath. She'd never told him, and silently damned herself for the secrets that she kept.

"I can't use a charm. I'm not allowed, due to the... contract."

He looked confused.

"The contract I signed when I agreed to the marriage. He would keep my family out of Azkaban, and in return, I agreed to certain concessions. He specified no contraceptive charms."

"And you never saw fit to tell met this?"

Her lip trembled, but she refused to cry. "I was on a potion that I smuggled in with me. Lucius found it a few weeks ago and destroyed it." She looked up, her eyes watering with emotion. She was at fault for not telling him and expected his anger. Her voice dropped as she admitted her mistake. "I'd been hoping to ask you to get more for me, but things...changed. You left."

His mouth dropped open in disbelief.

"I'm so sorry," she concluded, her voice a hoarse whisper.

Reaching out to pull her closer, he wrapped her up in a hug, one hand around her waist, the other pulling her head into his chest. She began to sob, and silently condemned her excessive emotion on the hormones of pregnancy.

"Oh, Ginny. If it was any other way, I'd be so happy right now."

She curled into his embrace, wanting to smile at his words, but her grief and fear overwhelmed the fact that, at some level, he did want to have a child with her. "Really?" she asked, her voice slightly muffled by his shirt, where she remained hidden, not ready to face him.

He gave a small, almost sad chuckle. "Yes."

He gave a deep sigh and paced awkwardly across the room. "And why do you feel you need a healer then?"

"I think you can figure that out, Draco," she said, feeling a heavy weight of sadness settle on her.

"You're looking to terminate the..." He didn't finish the sentence, motioning to her tummy instead.

She nodded, miserably. "I need to terminate the pregnancy, or you know he'll do it for me, and Merlin only knows what he'll do to you."

She hated the sound of her own words. She couldn't bring herself to use the word "baby", because it made what she needed to do sound so much more heartless. It hurt to say it aloud. She couldn't even begin to fathom how she would feel to have the procedure done.

He moved away from her and sat heavily on the couch, dropping his head into his hands. It was expected that her news would be shocking. She'd expected him to be more angry, but instead, he simply seemed overwhelmed. She certainly was, and she'd had several days to come to terms with the information.

Heaving a deep sigh, he looked up, his expression slightly cold.

"Is that what you want?" he asked, motioning toward her midsection, apparently referring to her request. "You want to end it?"

"No! Of course it's not what I want, but I don't see much choice in the matter," she said, her voice cracking. It was a horrible choice. If she was going to be forced into having children, the idea of it being a child conceived in an act of love was a dream. But she had no way of putting that into words.

She felt tears choking in her throat, but she was determined to stay strong. "If he finds out, you know full well that something terrible will happen. He's unpredictable, and I couldn't..." She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I won't let him hurt you. I couldn't bear it."

"He'd have to find me first."

"You know full well that it would only be a matter of time," she said. "And he promised that the baby wouldn't live anyway. I'd rather he never know."

She sat down beside him, the tears began to spill unbidden down her cheeks. It was a horrible choice, that had made so much sense only a few days earlier. Now, looking at the man she loved, she found the decision to be impossible. "There's no other way, Draco. Please don't make this harder."

"There are other options, Ginny..."

She'd expected him to say that. She knew quite well what he was going to suggest.

"I suppose this is where we discuss that it's time for me to leave," she stated, willing herself to regain her composure. It was no time to fall apart.

"It's the worst possible timing, but yes. It's time, Ginny. No more Gryffindor bravery for you."

She chuckled, wiping the wetness from her cheeks and willing herself to look at him. To her surprise, there was no anger, just a hint of a sad smile as he looked back at her. Unfortunately, what she needed to tell him would soon change that.

"I can't go, Draco. That's why I need the healer. I have to stay here, and Lucius can't know about this."

He scowled. It was the one topic that consistently made him angry with her. She found herself surprised at how the emotion from him hurt.

"I'm not going to argue with you on this," he said, making it sound like an order. "You've done your part for your family. It's up to them to look out for themselves. I won't let him harm you, not now, and certainly not when I can do something about it."

She felt the tears well in her eyes again. He cared about her and she loved him for it. She wasn't looking forward to how he would take her next bit of bad news.

"I would, if I could, Draco. But..." her lip trembled as she readied herself to tell him the horrible truth. "I don't have a choice. It's part of the... I'm bound here by the contract, not the wards."

He stared at her, disbelieving.

"I can't leave the grounds for more than a few days, unless Lucius specifically releases me."

Draco froze, as the meaning of her words sunk in. "Is there anything else that you've agreed to by this contract? Merlin, Ginny, how could you not see fit to tell me?" he shouted, his voice rising in frustration.

He stood, apparently unable to contain himself and began pacing the room again. She stood with him, starting at him miserably.

She hadn't told him because it was, first, a topic that they both avoided, but, more importantly, she'd been afraid of if he'd withdraw from her if he truly understood that there was no chance of her ever leaving.

"I didn't want to burden you with my obligations," she said sadly.

He stopped his pacing and looked at her with disbelief, his hands literally shaking with emotion. "You didn't want to..."

She dropped back down onto the couch, feeling miserable. She suddenly felt like she'd used him, and it made her feel unbelievably guilty. "I'm sorry."

"Is there anything more in this 'contract' that I need to be aware of?" he asked, running his fingers through his hair, his frustration evident. The tone of his voice had turned angry, and, while she'd expected exactly that reaction, it still hurt.

She shook her head. "Not really. Just that we're not allowed to use our wands against each other, or kill each other. There are details about me not using the Floo, or owls, but I think you are aware of those."

She stared at him for a long moment, waiting for him to vent his anger further. But, instead, he simply looked pained, then rubbed his hand over his face, pushing his hair back, a look of determination coming to his face. "That gives us a problem," he said, his voice suddenly dropping to a controlled calm.

"A problem?" She had a momentary thought that it was possibly the biggest understatement she'd ever heard, but refrained from making a comment as she watched him begin to pace back and forth across the little room, his gaze unfocused as he turned his thoughts inward.

"Right, then. A big problem," he muttered, still pacing, but not looking at her.

She sat, biting her lower lip as she watched him. It was quite interesting, actually, because he seemed immersed in some sort of internal debate. The intensity of his look vaguely reminded her of watching her brother play chess as he worked out a variety of solutions.

He stopped suddenly and stared at her, as if he'd reached some sort of conclusion.

"I want a copy of that contract. I need to know everything that we are up against."

"I have it in my desk. Do you want me to go get it now?"

He nodded, and she got up and moved toward the door, confused about how the contract might help. Obviously, he didn't believe her when she said that there was nothing else that might interfere.

"And while you're up there, please ask Bella to come down. I need to speak with her."

"But..." she could only gape at him. His request left her dumbfounded.

"Ginny, she knows about me coming here. She doesn't care about you and I. She's ignored his orders to keep me away. Just go get her, and when she arrives, don't interrupt or interfere with what I say. It might sound odd, but I'll explain later," he explained.

She continued to look doubtful, but nevertheless ran back into the house to retrieve the maniacal witch.

A few minutes later, Bella sauntered into the carriage house, a delighted smile on her face. "Draco, my boy. We are honored by your visit," the witch laughed as she greeted him, Draco taking her hand pleasantly and leaning forward to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Always a pleasure, Aunt Bella," he returned, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic sly tone as he spoke to his aunt. "It appears we have a bit of a game to play."

"Oh I do love a good game. Do tell me, is it going to be a challenge?"

A disturbingly bright smile graced his face as he nodded, motioning to invite his aunt to sit.

"Ginny," he said, turning back to her for a moment and slipping something into her hand. "I think you should wait outside."

"But..." she said, ready to protest emphatically, but he gave her a level look, glancing at the item in her hand before turning away to join his aunt on the leather couch.

She turned and left the room in a huff, the door closing behind her as soon as she exited. Then, she looked down at the item in her hand.

An Extendable Ear.

A small smile came to her face, as she shook her head in disbelief. He was brilliant.

She wasted no time in using the device, sending it discretely under the narrow opening of the door, and settling herself against the wall as the conversation between Draco and his aunt came easily to her.

Bella laughed in glee. "Oh Draco, dear boy. You've gotten your father into quite a state. I don't know your little scheme, but this is a rather amusing development."

"Things haven't gone quite according to plan, Bella. It appears that I didn't have all the facts."

"Oh poo." Bella said, and Ginny could almost picture her pout. "Since when does anything go exactly as planned. It would be so very boring if it did, anyway."

"Actually, this latest development plays right into your plan, my dear Bella," Draco said smoothly. Ginny cringed, knowing that it was normal for him to seem so different while talking to his aunt, but she doubted she'd ever like it.

"It appears that Ginevra is expecting a new heir to the Black family," Draco said, deviously.

Bella literally screeched in glee, causing Ginny to pull the listening device away from her ear due to the pain it caused.

"Oh that's wonderful! This is far more amusing than anything I could have hoped for!"

"Somehow, I knew that you, dear Aunt, would definitely find this amusing," Draco said, sounding just a tad sarcastic.

She continued to laugh. "Oh, Lucius will be furious! I so enjoyed the fact that you taunted him the way you did, but this goes far beyond my expectations. I can't wait to see the look on his face."

She could hear Draco give an impatient sigh as he waited for the witch to quiet long enough for him to continue.

"As I said, Bella, it wasn't exactly according to my plan."

"And, as I said, dear nephew, that it would only be too boring if it were."

"Yes, but the timing is terrible. You know full well that the Dark Lord still has me black-marked. I have absolutely no claim to my own son."

"You know I'm working to change that little fact. Besides, I've already drawn up the papers to make you my heir once your father disowns you. No need to worry. "

"Not if my father finds out that this child isn't his. You know full well that the Dark Lord seems to have me black-marked. No respectable Pureblooded witch in these times will consider me."

"Well, I will just have to work all that much harder to bring you back into the fold," Bella said, condescendingly.

"That's kind of you Bella, but what if Potter returns and I'm struck down tomorrow. You'd be left without a Pureblooded heir. We can't let the Noble House of Black risk ending this way. Not for the greatest time in our world's history."

Ginny grimaced at the tone of the conversation. Bella's intentions sounded just a bit warped, but what was more disturbing was how Draco seemed to easily play to her bizarre logic.

Bella laughed. "I'm so glad you understand, dear boy. Your ancestors would be proud."

"It's simple enough. You have Teddy as insurance, but you'd prefer to keep a Pureblooded heir, if at all possible," he said, sounding far too devious. Ginny cringed at his tone. "I want my father to think that this child is his, at least for the time-being."

There was a short pause, apparently as Bella considered his proposal. "Oh, Draco dear, I always knew you were clever." Bella responded.

"So, you are interested in using this against my father?"

She laughed far too enthusiastically for a sane person. "Draco, darling, Lucius is responsible for my dear sister's death, and your exile. If he had any family honor at all, he would have taken full responsibility for the mistakes that took place. When I saw you were using the girl, I knew that you and I had very compatible goals. Look how marvelously it's playing out. I couldn't have planned a better scheme myself!"

Ginny felt a tad dirty due to the tone of the woman's insinuations. She was not proud of her lifestyle as of late, after all, she was quite readily cheating on her husband and, horrible bastard or not, she hardly needed to be reminded.

"Well, we have another problem," he said. "Lucius hasn't touched her since his return. If he finds out she's expecting, he might realize that the mathematics don't quite match."

"Oooooh!" the witch said, rubbing her hands together. "We get to be clever about this, then, don't we? I'm enjoying it already."

Ginny was frightened before but, upon hearing the words and tone in Bella's voice, she was now terrified. They were trusting their fate to a madwoman. Yet, Draco seemed oddly calm and confident. He trusted her.

She heard rustling, as if someone was getting up to leave. She began to move away from the door, but then caught one more bit of conversation.

"One more thing, Bella. Do you know if he's planning on using the potion?"

"On the girl? I don't see why not. She's rebellious. It would be in everyone's best interest."

"Rodolphus miscalculated the effects before. I don't want to risk the child being exposed."

"Good point, my dear boy. I'll convince him to wait."

The plan was then hatched, and Ginny was now in the tender care of Bellatrix. Hearing her move toward the door, Ginny retracted her listening device and barely managed to tuck it into a pocket before the other witch exited the room.

She gave Ginny a brilliant smile. "It looks like you and I are going to be having a bit of fun together," she said, clapping her hands together in her usual expression of insane glee. "We'll be best friends in no time at all, darling."

Ginny could only stare at the witch, somewhat dumbfounded. Bella patted her on the cheek, condescendingly. "No need to fear, darling. Your little one will be quite safe, and Lucius will think it's his soon enough. We'll have a wonderful time manipulating him. You'll see."

Turning her cheek for Draco to give her a kiss goodbye, she waved at the couple and sauntered enthusiastically back toward the house in a mood that could only be described as giddy.

Ginny stood for a full minute, staring at the retreating witch with her mouth hanging open.

"You heard everything?" he asked, standing beside her as they both watched Bella depart.

"I heard. And if you want to know my opinion, I think you are barking mad."

"Maybe I am, but it was the best I could come up with."

"You could have gotten me a healer."

"No, this is better. It will keep anyone from harming you, because they won't risk hurting the baby."

Pieces of the conversation came back to her. They'd mentioned using a potion and Lucius's threat about her future. "You mentioned a potion to her. Is that the one Rodolphus Lestrange has been working on?"

He nodded gravely.

"What does it do?"

He shook his head.

"No more secrets, Draco. You talked about Lucius using it on me. I demand to know what it does."

He gave a weary sigh. "It's not clear yet what the exact effects will be, but they are trying to alter memories or personality. The idea is to make the person more receptive to Voldemort's ideals."

"Like Imperious?"

"No, a bit worse, actually. The proposal is to wipe clean the personality of the person, so that they can be imprinted with something more desirable."

Brainwashing. She'd read about it in a Muggle book once.

She suddenly felt lightheaded, her knees growing impossibly weak. "He intends to give this to me?" she said, her tone disbelieving.

He nodded again.

"And you knew this, and didn't think to tell me?"

He cringed, visibly. "The potion wasn't ready, and, at the time, it didn't appear he wanted to use it on you. I thought I could convince you to leave before it came to that. I only found out about his plans to finish it for you a few days ago."

She suddenly found it very difficult to stand. They'd been planning this for some time, and she'd had no idea. Draco steadied her, helping her to the couch to sit down. She had little doubt that every last bit of color had drained from her face. Her breathing became nervous and shallow and, despite everything she tried to control herself, she began to hyperventilate.

She looked up at him in fear. She needed help, and the only help available seemed to be in the form of Bellatrix Lestrange, one of the most frightening individuals she'd ever met.

"You trust Bella to help protect me against this," she said shakily.

"No, I trust Bella to do what is best for Bella. She wants a Pureblooded heir to the Black family. Teddy is only a backup. She's not protecting you. She's protecting that baby. She'll protect you until you give birth, but no longer than that."

She swallowed, but her throat was horribly parched.

"Are you sure you can trust her? She could easily let Lucius find out, just for her own amusement."

"She won't. For her, things are going exactly to plan."

"What do you mean by plan?"

"I'm the last Pureblood in the Black family line. Now that the Dark Lord is in power, Bella's current priority is to ensure that the family line continues, and that means that she wants to ensure that I have a child.

"Unfortunately, no respectable Pureblooded witch would consider me for marriage. I've been exiled by the Dark Lord, meaning that I would have no real future here. I'm basically an outcast, at least until I choose to do something stupid like prove my worth."

He paused, taking a deep breath and looking away from her, his expression turning distant and thoughtful. "She's furious with my father for allowing my mother to die and then for disowning me, and this is the perfect way for her to get her revenge. She'll find it to be a glorious joke to know that Lucius will raise my son as his own. She'll tell him, but years after it's too late."

"There has to be a downside to this."

He looked back, his gaze level and steady. "Oh, there certainly is, love. She's going to want a hand in raising the baby. She can't afford any more mistakes."

Ginny felt cold. "How can you agree to this?"

"Because we have no choice. This buys us time. It will keep you safe for the next few months, and maybe I can do something by then. I've got a lot to do but I won't be able to get it done if I'm worrying about you. Bella will find a way to make this work."

She chewed on her lower lip in worry. "I don't trust her."

"You shouldn't. Whatever you do, keep up appearances, act like you accept anything they say about the Dark Lord, and, no matter what, do NOT confide in her about anything. She can come across as quite nice when she wants to, but she'll use any information to shred you to pieces if it benefits her."

"I won't see you for a while, then." It was a statement, not a question.

"Sorry, love. I'm going to have to disappear for a bit."

She nodded and put her arms around him. "I knew that. I'd been planning for some time to ask you to not come back. It would be too dangerous."

He held her, his hand rubbing her back in comforting circles.

"I don't know how I'll survive without you here. It's going to go back to like it was, and... and I don't think I can go through that again. I don't think I'm strong enough without you."

"It won't be easy for me either. It's killing me to think of leaving you here."

His words brought a fresh set of tears to her eyes, and she pulled him more tightly into the hug. "Please don't think about it. I would give anything to leave," she replied.

He pulled her closer, one hand stroking her hair, and she closed her eyes to cherish the feeling of comfort.

"I've hated him for touching you from the moment I saw him bring you into this house."

The words made her chuckle weakly. He despised her when she first came to the house, but that didn't matter. For the moment, she had far more to think about. After all these months, he'd finally given her some of the answers that she'd been craving.

Unfortunately, it left her no better off. Knowing more had only left her more frustrated about her lack of ability to do more than pass simple notes off to her family on occasion. Worse, she now had only more questions, and felt an increasing sense of frustration about her own helplessness.

It was also above and beyond her comprehension that her personal safety, and that of her unborn son, were now in the hands of a madwoman.

---


	17. Chapter 17 Derek Hanson

Derek Hanson walked home from work alone, kicking idly at stones along the roadside, his mind fully occupied with problems and schemes that were far too complicated for a young man of only twenty-one, who worked at a simple job such as his.

He absently turned up his collar against the chill of the fall wind, briefly making note that the season was turning colder, although the weather was the least of his worries. Kicking at another rock, he grew angry at himself for allowing his situation to become so serious. He was fully aware that his problems were largely his own fault, but that didn't make it any easier.

He looked about as he walked down the street of the quiet village, turning toward the small building where he'd been living off and on for the past year or so and thought about how much he'd grown to enjoy living in this peaceful, quiet haven.

Everything had worked out to his plans since he'd moved there, and, by all rights, he should be happy about that. The last year had been tremendously successful for him. He'd skillfully transitioned into his new life, and even made some good friends. He was talented at his occupation and was being recognized as such. In fact, some of the best in his field had begun to seek him out. Yet the success that he had once coveted and worked so hard to obtain brought him little joy .

The past few weeks had brought about a change, and now, he found himself faced with an overwhelmingly dangerous decision. It was becoming quite certain that all his carefully laid plans were soon going to be ruined. The only question was: how.

Even his mates had noticed his change in behavior over the past few weeks, ever since he'd been able to increase his hours to full time, instead of only weekends. They had begun to worry for him. Occasionally, one of them would try to break him out of his melancholy, only to receive a curt word or perhaps a grunt in reply. Somehow, they would chide him that a girl was involved, which only caused him to seclude himself from them further. They were right, of course, but there was no possible way they could fathom his situation. In fact, he could barely comprehend the mess he'd gotten himself into himself, much less attempt to explain it to anyone else.

He walked up the steps to the small apartment that he called his own and closed the door behind him, shutting out the world so that he could focus his thoughts on the girl that had changed his life last winter.

Dropping his jacket onto the only chair in the room, he threw himself onto the bed and stared up at he ceiling. Without prompting, his mind once again recounted the night, almost eight months ago, that had ultimately mucked up his perfect plan.

It was February, and he remembered that it had been cold that night, but he and his mates had put in a long day, and were looking to spend their evening enjoying a pint or two. It had become a weekly ritual for them over the months since they'd started working together, and it had become his favorite time of the week.

That particular night hadn't been out of the ordinary, with the small exception that his mates were still ribbing him about his latest Muggle faux pas. Of course, they didn't know he privately still referred to them as Muggles, in fact, he only slipped into thinking of the term infrequently while he was among them.

But he was still a bit of a stranger to their ways, and, even after months of adapting to their world, he still occasionally reverted to terminology that he'd used all his life. It seemed to be a great source of amusement for those he associated with. At first, it had been uncomfortable, but his cover story had been that he'd spent much of his childhood overseas, giving him leeway for his occasional mistakes.

Jerry clapped him on the back, "Don't worry, mate, I'm sure ol' Sarky didn't notice."

"He looked at me like I had grown an extra appendage!", Derek had responded indignantly.

His other mate, Alan, joined in to the conversation. "Eh, he was just cranky because he's still getting over that flu. But, calling his medicine a 'foul potion'...that was brilliant. If I didn't know you better, I'd think that you were making fun of him."

Derek went to the bar and returned with his beer, knowing that his co-workers were still in good humor over his latest misstep. In earlier times, he would have been furious, but he'd come to accept that they meant no harm, and he'd learned to laugh with them. For Muggles, these blokes were good-natured and accepting, laughing at their own shortcomings just as well as any that he'd had. If anything, they seemed more accepting of him than he'd expected.

Sitting back down, he began to tease his new mates just as mercilessly as they did him.

"You have to admit, the look on Sarky's face made it look as if drinking the stuff was worse than being sick," he said.

"Eh, he always looks that way," Alan said, squinting his face in an attempt to imitate their cranky co-worker, causing Derek and Jerry to laugh heartily.

Derek took a sip of his beer and glanced casually around the pub, noticing that many of the faces there were part of the regular Saturday night crowd. Then, his gaze passed by the bar, and his breath caught in his throat. His hand, which had been holding the beer glass dropped heavily back onto the table, making a loud thud as it hit the surface, beer sloshing out of the glass from the heavy contact.

"You might want to close your mouth, mate," Jerry laughed. "Something might fly in there."

It was true, his jaw had dropped open. He couldn't help himself. She was gorgeous.

Both friends looked in the direction of his stare, making comments agreeing with his silent assessment.

"She's new," Alan remarked, giving a low whistle in appreciation. "I wonder if she's from around here."

"Too pretty to be local," Jerry agreed, taking a long sip of his beer. "I'd remember if I'd seen her before."

She was more than pretty, she was stunning. But, that wasn't entirely the reason for his reaction. The red hair had certainly been his first clue, but after a moment of admiring her, he realized that he recognized her and turned his head away as soon as she turned to glance around the room.

His friends took his reaction for shyness, but the more correct interpretation was that he suffered a moment of panic that she might recognize him in return. If she did, then all his time spent to establish a new identity would be ruined. Ducking away to avoid her gaze, he sipped at his beer and changed the subject, much to the amusement of his friends. Fortunately, they didn't press him...much.

He quietly observed her as the evening wore on, trying to determine why a Weasley, of all people, would be sitting in a Muggle pub. She was obviously alone, and he wondered if she was waiting for someone. Dressed as she was, she was certainly attracting attention, although she was clearly uncomfortable when men approached her and attempted to make conversation.

After about an hour, Derek remained distracted by the girl and Alan, apparently, had had enough. "Derek, you really should go over and talk to her, you've been watching her all night," he suggested.

Derek nodded dumbly, looking down into his beer, and considered the possibility that she might not recognize him. After all, he'd charmed his hair to a light brown during his stay among the Muggles, to avoid any chance of detection, and, more importantly, he was likely one of the last people that she'd expect to find in this particular place. Besides, he was truly curious about why she was there.

Alan spoke again, "C'mon Derek. You're the only one of us that might be pretty enough to have a chance with her anyway."

He had to agree with Alan's statement. His friends were certainly amiable enough, but they weren't what he'd classify as attractive, even from a male point of view. Despite the fact that he sounded conceited, even to himself, he really was the only one of the three of them who could be considered good-looking enough to be noticed by a woman as attractive as the red head.

He got another beer, and sipped at it thoughtfully as he observed her further. His first thought was that she was there on some strange mission, but after watching her carefully, he could only come to the conclusion that she was there to drown her sorrows about something. He wasn't surprised. News of the expected fate of her brothers was well-publicized in the recent papers.

After a couple of hours, she was clearly becoming unsteady on her feet, and she was starting to draw the attention of some of the less desirable blokes in the room. If she wasn't careful, she'd be getting into trouble soon enough. His friends were planning to leave soon anyway, since they all had to be into work early the next morning. He decided to take action.

"Go home then, mates. I don't want you to be around to see if I get struck down like all the others," he joked, as he got up to move toward the bar.

They laughed, as they got up to leave, each nodding in encouragement and approval that he'd decided to take action.

"Alright, Derek, but make sure you give us all the details tomorrow, yeah?"

"Like I'd tell you either way, you git," Derek responded, good-naturedly.

He stopped by the toilet first, to apply another quick glamour charm to change his eye color to a deep blue, and altered his nose slightly, so it was a bit broader. He could still be recognized under close observation, but, judging by the number of drinks he'd seen the girl consume, he doubted there would be a problem.

He wasn't quite sure what had drawn him to her, other than the fact that he found her to be extremely attractive, but then, so did every other bloke in the room. In fact, the disadvantages far outweighed any thing he might gain by approaching her, the most obvious being the danger that she might recognize him. However, after watching her attempt to converse with any fellow who approached, he had come to the conclusion that both of them were likely here among the Muggles for similar reasons, and, for some reason, he was a bit lonely in his situation and wanted to connect with a kindred spirit.

When he got to the bar, the sight of her teardrop splashing onto the smooth wood surface shocked him. That's when he knew his curiosity had gotten the best of him. He had to know why she was there.

"Are you all right?" he asked, for lack of anything better to say.

Surprisingly, when she looked at him, there was no hint of malice or suspicion. He'd almost expected something like that, but she was obviously too consumed with her own dilemma, and more than a bit drunk.

He did the chivalrous thing. He tried to get her away from the public attention she was getting at the bar, and maybe find out what was troubling her. He even convinced himself that he was only being selfish, because she might have some valuable insight into the war that might help him.

It had been a strange conversation that they shared over the next hour, he thought. Each of them avoiding specific information about themselves, yet he managed to give her an overview of his life without providing any specific details. What amazed him was, even as he relayed the vague story of his current life, she stared at him with such a look of hope and longing.

She made him feel that his simple accomplishment of hiding among the Muggles was the most amazing thing in the world. It made him feel special. It made her even more attractive to him. None of his friends could possibly understand the difficulties that he faced every day living in this alien environment. If they only knew about the life he was attempting to walk away from, they would be dumbfounded, but she would understand. He realized that he wanted someone to truly understand.

"If things are truly that bad, why don't you leave?" he asked.

"It's a long story," she replied, playing with her half-empty glass, pushing it back and forth idly on the table. She looked so very vulnerable, and he felt a sudden impulsive urge come over him that was rather uncharacteristically altruistic.

"The estate I work seems to always have openings. If you like, I could put in a good word for you there."

She looked into his eyes and smiled, genuinely smiled, for the first time that evening. "That sounds rather nice. I like that idea. That's very thoughtful of you."

Of course, he was well aware that he was completely bonkers for even suggesting such a thing, but it was worth it, simply to see the gentle smile light her face. At the time, he'd taken her response as a possible agreement; little did he know that she was only considering the idea to be a pleasant fantasy.

He put his arm over the back of her chair, and felt her warmth as she leaned into him. He idly began to play with the ends of her hair, marveling at the vibrant color of it as it moved through his fingers. She looked up at him, still giving that small, sweet smile, although her gaze was slightly unfocused.

Suddenly, he realized that he liked being Derek Hanson. He liked the total freedom that came with that, where the limitations of his past no longer mattered.

"So, does your boyfriend know you're here tonight?" he asked, suddenly feeling the need to know the answer to that question. He held his breath waiting for her response.

"I don't have a boyfriend," she replied softly.

"Good," he said, releasing the breath and leaning in to press his lips against hers.

She tensed for the briefest moment, but her lips were just as soft and welcoming as he'd imagined. Everything about her was soft, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, grateful that he'd chosen a table in the farthest, darkest corner of the pub. He opened an eye and glanced about, but the remaining occupants seemed quite oblivious to them.

Nevertheless, after several long moments, he found that he was uncomfortable with snogging in such a public location. He pulled back, noting her little sound of disappointment.

"Maybe we should go somewhere a little more...private?" he suggested.

She smiled, snuggling a little closer to him. He breathed a deep sigh. She was inebriated, and he questioned her judgment. By all rights, he should simply escort her home, but that was impossible to do without compromising his identity as a wizard.

After a long moment of debating the facts, he decided to bring her back to his place, and determine what to do after she sobered a bit.

Walking into the cold winter night, she remained cuddled close to him, and he became all too well aware of how long he'd been without a woman. She began playing with the buttons on his shirt, seemingly rather focused on undoing them. She was obviously interested in more than snogging, and, Merlin help him, he wanted her as well.

He had to tread very carefully, because, come morning, she'd likely find out his true identity, and there would definitely be consequences.

"What do you want, love?"

"I just want to forget..."

He didn't remember how he responded, but she had made her intentions clear. Just to be sure, he asked her again, after they made it back to his tiny room, and her answer had been the same.

He remembered every detail of that night, playing it over and over in the lonely hours he spent there in the months since.

He had taken her cloak, laying it carefully on the upholstered chair by the window and, by the time he turned back to her, she'd kicked off her shoes. She stood in the middle of the room, her head down, but her eyes looking up shyly through her lashes.

The innocence of that look just about made him melt inside. Maybe it did, he decided. It was likely the moment that he had started to fall in love with her. Kissing her, holding her, memorizing every curve of her had become a necessity at that point, and, as he unzipped the back of her dress, the soft sigh she gave nearly drove him mad with want.

He felt like Christmas had come, and he was unwrapping the perfect gift, as he nudged the dress off her shoulders and watched it puddle on the floor around her feet. He smiled, as he remembered admiring those dainty little feet as they stepped free of the fabric.

She seemed to become shy at that moment, standing in front of him in just her bra and knickers. He thought it might have been due in part to the chill of the room, so he pulled back the blankets on his bed, and invited her to climb in, removing his own shirt and pants before following her.

He thought that she might simply fall asleep, but, she suddenly seemed to become determined, reaching her hand behind his head to pull him into a kiss, clinging to him almost desperately. Her willingness was his undoing as he managed to remove the remainder of their clothing, making sure to caress every bit of newly exposed skin as it was revealed to him. Even in the darkness, he was able to appreciate the perfection of her, and when she timidly reached her small hands to touch him, he nearly exploded with desire.

He pulled away, in an attempt to regain control, but it was a feat that he quickly found to be difficult, if not near impossible because the little vixen took that pause to study him. A simple enough concept, but it was possibly the sexiest thing that he'd ever experienced.

Barely able to make her eyes out in the dim light, he saw her gaze at him with an expression that was part wonder, part admiration, and something else. If it wasn't so dark, he was sure that she would have seen him blush under her innocent scrutiny. When she brought her hand up to trace the side of his face, slowly moving her touch to his neck, his shoulder and down his arms, he felt overwhelmingly appreciated, and unexpectedly vulnerable.

Her touch was feather light, and he lay still, frozen in wonder of the feeling she seemed to draw from him. When her small hand moved up to trace the lines of his chest and stomach, he sucked in his breath.

"I'm sorry," she said, pausing in her exploration, glancing up at him.

"Don't be sorry. Please..." he said, almost begging her to continue. He'd never begged before.

"It's just so dark. I can barely see you."

He chuckled, and that seemed to cause her to relax. He bit back the urge to groan audibly as she continued her gentle perusal of his body. When she started to move downward, she suddenly stopped, turning her face away, and he was certain she was blushing.

He'd never been so aroused in his life.

Taking her hand, he guided her to touch his hardened shaft, and watched as she followed the movement of their joined hands, biting her lip, her expression endearingly shy, yet curious. The touch of her soft hands against him soon started to drive him mad, however, and he shifted, reversing their roles.

A few minutes later, he settled himself on top of her, looking into her eyes and seeing trust. He kissed her deeply, hoping to convey some of the intense emotion that he felt, and slipped inside.

She squeaked a small gasp of pain as soon as he encountered a barrier.

He hadn't expected that, although, in retrospect, her shyness should have warned him. She was a virgin.

"Ginny, why didn't you tell me..."

He caught himself. He'd used her name, knowing that she'd never mentioned it. He immediately noticed the look of surprise on her face, then fear. He wondered if she was also looking to remain anonymous.

"Please..." was all she said.

The look she gave him in that moment was indescribably heart-wrenching. She desperately wanted him to continue, but more than that, she gave him her complete trust. Nobody, not even his mother, had ever fully trusted him the way this girl did in that moment, when she was completely vulnerable to him. Kissing her softly, he plunged into her, giving her what she apparently wanted so desperately.

He took his time, rocking into the welcoming warmth of her and marveling at how she clung to him. The way she needed him was a welcome change, and he found himself enjoying the unexpected emotion that passed between them as he made love to her. He began to crave more of that feeling almost the moment after he came, as he looked down at her, and she gave him possibly the sweetest smile he'd ever seen.

What happened next, he regretted. He'd had a long day, and he was extremely tired. He pulled her close to fall asleep, thinking that she would do the same.

When he awoke the next morning, she was gone.

But that night was almost eight months ago. It was now October, and he still would lay awake in his bed at night, wishing that she had chosen to escape with him.

He should have walked away and forgotten her the moment he'd found out she'd gotten married. If he was smart, he should still do exactly that. He'd worked hard to create this life for himself and it was all coming together just as he'd planned.

He was a wizard who wanted nothing to do with the Wizarding world, at least not until it had worked itself back into some sort of sanity. He was supposed to hide here, stay out of the fight, and return in a few years, safe and happy and independently wealthy, just has his mother had pleaded with him to do before she was murdered. He had never had any intention of getting involved.

The irony of the situation was that this girl and her family were supposed to be the Muggle-loving fools. Yet, they remained in the world of magic, while he'd been able to walk away, and was not only fitting in, but was well on his way to becoming successful.

He smirked, knowing without a doubt that he was still better than the lot of them.

He walked over to the chest of drawers and withdrew the piece of parchment that currently vexed him, once again reading the lines that seemed relevant to his situation. It was only a start, but, nevertheless, it was surely going to pull him back into very unfavorable circumstances in the Wizarding world. Not only that, but his actions would likely draw him right into the center of the fight to depose the Dark Lord, which was exactly what he'd been hoping to avoid.

He was no hero. He never had been, and he had no desire to be. But he also had no desire to be the villain. Either choice would only likely get him killed.

Not even the death of his mother was enough incentive to make him do something so suicidal.

But he'd waited for months, hoping that Potter might return, bringing an end to the farce that Voldemort had called a government. During all that time, her family had done nothing to rescue her, and, now, time for her was running out.

So, here he was, contemplating putting himself right in the thick of it, despite his better judgment. He had a plan, but there was no way that he could accomplish it alone. He needed help, and he felt the bile rise in his throat when he thought of who he needed to call upon for such help.

He looked up in the mirror, seeing far too much maturity in the face staring back at him, his gray eyes looking far too old for his twenty-one years. In that moment, the man formerly known as Draco Malfoy knew, without a doubt, that he would do whatever he needed to do to rescue Ginny Weasley and their unborn child.

There you have it. Squees are welcome, btw. Might be a small delay on chap 18. I managed to misplace a large portion of the chapter, and it will need to be rewritten. Thought I'd post before the mayhem of HBP starts. And I will be in NY for the HBP premiere! Much going on, my dears. I think this chap will leave you in a good place, tho.


	18. Chapter 18

------

Thank you for all the lovely reviews. I do want to apologize for not being able to respond to everyone's comments last chapter. I typically try to send a note back to everyone, but things have been quite busy.

The rest of the story ( maybe 10 chapters or so) has been written in draft form. Just so you know that it is finished. However, I don't post until I'm sure I've got it right, and there are a lot of details that need be added in order to keep up the quality of the story.

As always, i appreciate your feedback. :)

- - -

Chapter 18

-----

Ginny stood outside the library listening in on the latest conversation between Bella and Lucius.

It had been four days since Draco had left her in Bella's care and, while she was aware that Bella had claimed to be working on softening Lucius toward her, she had no idea how successful the mad witch had been so far. The open library door had proven too tempting when she caught the sound of Bella's voice within.

"Oh Lucius, must you continue to sulk? It's so exceedingly dull," Bella said in her usual taunting manner.

"I am not sulking."

"Oh, yes, you are. Come now, that little incident of sending Draco away was weeks ago."

Ginny found she hardly needed to stand close to the door to hear the details of Bella's latest conversation. Lucius was clearly beginning to raise his voice, as, Bella had once again managed to rankle him. If not for Rodolphus's work on the potion, she was quite certain Lucius would have sent them back to their own home by now.

"Do not mention his name in my presence."

"Oh, yes, I know all about his little escapades behind your back," she said, her voice taking on a flippant tone and Ginny cringed at the words. Somehow she couldn't quite fathom how Bella was actually helping the situation by reminding Lucius of the reasons he remained angry.

"You know nothing, Bella."

"Oh, but I do!" She laughed, in that characteristic way that implied that she had the upper hand and was eager to deliver a fatal blow of some sort. "I have many sources, Lucius."

"You've been speaking with him?"

"You know full well that I intend to bring him back into the good graces of the Dark Lord. Of course I speak with him."

"And he told you about what, exactly?"

"Oh, he didn't say anything about why you sent him away..."

"So you know nothing," Lucius responded.

Bella's harsh laugh echoed clearly through the doorway. "On the contrary, I know that he accomplished exactly what he set out to do. He destroyed your relationship with your wife."

Ginny heard him snarl in response to Bella's words. It made her wince, fearing that Bella was doing more harm than good. For the thousandth time, she questioned the wisdom of Draco trusting this witch to help them.

But it was far worse than that. Bella's words held rings of truth, such as Draco being brought back to Voldemort's circle, or that he'd used her to suit his own ends. With Draco gone, the ideas brought forth by Bella's words made her feel ill. Nevertheless, she continued to listen, trying to remind herself that Bella would twist any truth to suit her own ends.

Bella continued unabashedly, "He wants to ensure that you don't replace him, of course."

A pause.

"Don't look at me that way, Lucius. The evidence is more than obvious."

"If that's so, what is your purpose for stating it?"

She heard movement, and pictured Bella giving her mad smile as she moved about the room. It was disturbing to think that she knew the witch so well.

"Don't be angry with Ginevra, my dear former brother-in-law."

"Bella..." his voice took on a warning tone to it, causing Ginny to smile. Nobody got under his skin like Bella could and Ginny had to admire the witch's ability to speak her mind without any fear. Her methods were almost a form of art.

"I've taken the girl under my tutelage, Lucius. I've decided I quite enjoy her."

Bella continued after a pause, likely having toyed with some object in order for her last words to have more dramatic effect. "I think it's time for you to forgive her. Draco used her to his own ends, there's no need to destroy her over it."

Ginny thought the words odd, but dismissed them. She was hardly feeling "destroyed" by Lucius distancing himself from her.

"Hmmph," he said in response. "What is your objective, Bella? I'm quickly tiring of this conversation."

"Oh, don't be stubborn," Bella said. "Since you wish to disown Draco, I want to claim him as the heir to the Black family line. It's in my best interest if you finish your plan."

"We are talking about my marriage, Bella. It is not a simple matter."

"Oh!" she paused. "Don't tell me that you've actually become fond of the girl!" Again, Ginny cringed at the words, wishing she hadn't stumbled upon the conversation.

"It's none of your concern."

"No matter. You talk about your marriage and what could be better than to produce this heir that you want so badly. Ginevra has been quite taken with Teddy. I believe that she's quite open to the possibility of having a child of her own."

"It's not that simple."

"Actually, it is. Come up with a way that will make it happen. It's better for the both of us if you follow through with this."

"Hmmmph," was his only response.

Bella merely laughed and marched cheerfully out of Lucius' study, giving Ginny a triumphant smile as she strode past.

- - -

Two days passed, and while she hadn't heard any further conversations between the two, Bella had assured her that things were going very well.

Unfortunately, their newfound alliance meant that Ginny was spending more time in the parlor with her mad benefactor.

Seating herself lazily onto one of the settees, Bella patted the chair next to her, inviting Ginny to sit. Ginny swallowed her disgust and complied.

"So, darling. Things are progressing swimmingly. We should have you back in Lucius's good graces very soon."

Ginny responded, as politely as possible, with a frown.

Bella merely responded to the disapproval with a raised eyebrow, her smile unfaltering. "In order to plan accordingly, I need to know exactly how far along you are."

Ginny took a deep breath, worried about how much information she should share with the other witch, but this particular bit of information was clearly relevant. "It will be five weeks on Wednesday," she said.

"Witch or Wizard?"

"The spell said it would be a boy," Ginny replied.

"Excellent!" Bella exclaimed, clasping her hands together.

It had been four days since Draco had gone, and in that time, Bella had given her strict orders to avoid Lucius. Ginny was frustrated and getting impatient. "Has he said anything?"

Bella looked at her as if she'd grown an extra appendage before answering, "Of course not. He's busy stewing. Good Lord, girl, I swear you don't know a thing about handling men. How did you ever trap him into this contract in the first place?"

She'd grown accustomed to this. Bella's tongue was frequently sharp, and Ginny had quickly learned that the best way to respond was to merely ignore the remarks.

Bella smiled again, giving Ginny an almost friendly pat on the knee. "Don't worry, darling. Time is almost right. Tonight, I want you to approach him after dinner. Make sure to bring up the details we discussed."

"I still find it difficult to believe that he could be manipulated so easily."

"Not normally, but his emotions are clouding his judgment," Bella replied cheerfully, but her eyes immediately narrowed in warning. "Make sure you don't fall into the same trap."

Ginny nodded, biting back an instant of fear. Bella's too-cheerful mood was disarming, but the instant her expression changed. In that moment, Ginny was reminded just how dangerous the witch could be. The sooner that this was accomplished, the better.

- - -

Ginny walked into the study later that day, trying not to look uncomfortable as she stood timidly before Lucius. Bella's conversations with him had been intended to soften him toward her, but Ginny had not been privileged to hear all of their interaction. Much of Bella's tactic seemed to include dropped hints or side conversations. It had been almost educational to watch how the mad witch manipulated those around her, and Ginny once again wondered how she might be manipulated in the same way, should Bella choose to do so.

For now, Ginny had a task to accomplish in their mutual plan. It was now up to her to at least give the impression that she wanted to make amends.

After a long moment, during which Ginny had far too much time to dwell on her thoughts, Lucius looked up from his book, his expression cold. Ginny was momentarily reminded that she well and truly hated him. Not only had he brutally beaten her, but he had also been planning to destroy her mind. She forced herself not to think of that. For the moment, she concentrated on the fact that he was still her husband, and she had done wrong. Her morals compelled her to feel a small amount of remorse, which drove her forward.

"My Lord..." she said, bowing her head slightly.

"I have no wish to speak with you, Ginevra."

"I'm so sorry, Lucius," she said, dropping to her knees in front of him and reaching out to touch his hand. She surprised herself at the amount of honesty that was in the statement. She was fighting for the life of her child now, and possibly Draco's life as well, and, truth be told, she was most definitely sorry for endangering them.

He stared at her a long moment and slowly closed his book, carefully placing it aside. He then turned his gaze to her, giving her his full attention. "What do you want from me, Ginevra?"

She dropped her gaze, unable to look him in the eye. "I don't know. I don't want you to be angry with me."

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze remaining steadily on her, but no trace of emotion in his eyes. "Bella seems to feel that you have been a pawn in this incident," he said coldly.

She shook her head. "I have no idea what Bella thinks." Actually, that was quite a true statement.

He chuckled, although the tone was not quite pleasant. "Few have any notion of what truly goes on in Bella's mind. Yet, you've spent time with her. She seems to find you interesting."

Ginny couldn't hide her surprise at the statement. "I..." she stammered, "I don't know about that, My Lord. I rarely speak with her. I spend most of my days with Teddy."

"The child?"

She nodded. The opening in the conversation had come up. This was her chance, so she took it.

"Spending time with him has given me reason to reconsider things."

"Really," he said, flatly, although she could only hope that he was interested in hearing more.

"Yes. I was thinking of how empty the house would be when he and Bella leave."

His gaze softened slightly. "I can arrange for another companion," he said.

She looked up in alarm. "No," she responded, almost too quickly. "I mean, I was thinking that... perhaps I would like a child of my own."

He raised one eyebrow, but said nothing. After a moment of studying her face, he turned and picked up his book again, opening it and appearing to ignore her.

She stood slowly, assuming that the conversation was over. She hadn't been expecting him to forgive her after only one attempt, but nevertheless, she couldn't help from feeling deep disappointment over her failure. She turned and began to walk slowly toward the door, her head bowed.

"Ginevra," he said, causing her to turn back toward him, unable to hide the hopeful expression on her face. "I told you that I knew what was best for you. You should have listened to me earlier."

She nodded, her head dropping again in defeat. "Yes, My Lord."

- - -

Then next day, after breakfast, Bella sought her out, her usual cheerfully evil expression firmly in place.

"We have so much to look forward to, Ginevra," she said almost kindly, walking up alongside her and looping her arm through Ginny's in a friendly manner. "Greatness is in our future, I'm sure of it. Your son will be given a special place of honor among the Dark Lord's favorites because of his lineage."

"I'm sure that the Dark Lord has far more pressing concerns than considering the future of a child that has yet to be born," Ginny prompted, failing to comprehend the source of Bella's cheerfulness.

"True, true. But, nevertheless, he is interested in how our little game plays out. Think of it as a test."

Ginny felt a jolt of concern. Draco had told her that Voldemort liked to maintain a tight control over those closest to him. She hadn't considered the idea that he might actually care about this particular drama.

"He knows about this?"

Bella smiled, looking at her as if reading her thoughts. She wasn't sure that Bella could, but the witch was quite observant, and Ginny was sure that her thoughts played quite clearly in her expression.

"Of course the Dark Lord pays attention. He's been quite interested in how things play out between you and Lucius ever since he looked into your thoughts. You are an anomaly, darling. It makes things interesting."

Ginny had to admit, that talking to Bella seemed to give her an amazing insight into Voldemort's mind. It was helpful that Bella never seemed to tire of talking about him.

"How I enjoy being interesting," she responded dryly, causing Bella to laugh.

"You amuse me, darling. It makes me happy that Draco brought us together."

Bella cocked her head, looking at Ginny almost appraisingly with a gleam in her eye, as she steered Ginny in the direction of her parlor. She heaved a sigh, resigning herself to follow Bella and listen to whatever she was apparently rambling about.

"You want what's best for Draco, don't you?"

Ginny felt her breath catch in her throat, as warning signals seemed to flash in her mind. Letting Bella know the depth of her feelings for Draco would be a mistake. She said nothing, doing her best to block her feelings.

"I want what's best for this baby," Ginny said, as commandingly as possible.

Her reaction seemed to merely amuse Bella further, and the witch's eyes brightened with glee. "Of course," she said, waving her hand as if dismissing Ginny's words. "At the very least, you want him, which is good enough for now, my dear, but he's only the beginning. Once Draco is in the Dark Lord's good graces again, the way will be clear for your son's future, but we must be patient."

"The Dark Lord wants Draco to join him," Ginny said, fearing the answer, but needing to know. She was already well aware that Bella wanted him to return to Voldemort's inner circle, but she feared that Voldemort might concur.

"Without a doubt. I know the boy has potential. This little incident, where he was willing to betray his own father to suit his own ends, has piqued the Dark Lord's interest. I couldn't have planned it better myself."

The thought made Ginny ill, and she took a calming breath. In order to appear unaffected, she cast her own feelings back once again, and called upon her alter ego, drawing forth feelings of selfishness and ambition in order to better deal with Bella.

"There's a time for patience, Bella, but in the mean time, how do we convince Lucius?"

"He's quite convinced now, Ginevra, darling. I spoke with him this morning and he's called in a healer to see you this afternoon."

"What?" Ginny squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. Surely, a healer would be able to diagnose her secret immediately.

"I fully expected the healer. After all, I suggested it."

Ginny said nothing, knowing the Bella was enjoying the conversation of boasting about her own prowess in whatever little scheme she was concocting. She crossed her arms and sat, waiting for Bella to continue.

"Why in Merlin's name would you do that?" Ginny asked, trying to hide the hint of desperation that she felt coming into her voice.

Bella merely looked at her knowingly. "Because, silly girl, Lucius wants to make sure that Draco hasn't attempted some other trick that would interfere with you. He's putting the blame completely on Draco and that's what I was hoping would happen."

Feeling strongly that the witch was completely daft, Ginny felt compelled to remind her of a few facts. "And what if the healer happens to notice that I'm already expecting a child? Healers are rather good at that sort of thing, in case you weren't aware."

"If you must ask, then maybe I won't tell you." Bella said, examining her fingernails and ignoring Ginny.

Frustrated, Ginny gave a sigh in exasperation. Bella was beyond frustrating, and apparently found that this was some sort of game, so Ginny tossed out a guess. "Then, you've bribed this healer to tell him that I'm not expecting a child?"

Bella stared at her as if she were quite stupid, and rolled her eyes. "Of course not! First, I wouldn't trust this man to lie effectively enough, and even if he could, we can't risk him telling someone the truth. It's amazing how word gets out even under the most dire of threats."

Somehow, Bella's cavalier attitude almost put Ginny at ease around the woman. It was...odd. Yet, this was her protector, so Ginny felt she had some small leeway that allowed her to speak her mind, and she was finally losing patience with the witch. "Fine, Bella. Would you care to share how you intend to hide my condition from the healer?"

Looking at her in disappointment, Bella pouted. "Oh really ,my dear, at times you seem so bright and promising but other times, I wonder if you even have a brain."

"Consider it lack of experience," Ginny replied sourly.

"Well, yes, you have had the disadvantage of being raised in the worst sort of environment, I suppose," Bella replied carelessly, giving a slight wave of her hand as if to emphasize the point.

With a supreme force of will, Ginny resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the remark.

"Don't you see, girl, I've planned this to ensure that he will perform the spell to determine that you are not yet expecting. I'll demand it, if he doesn't think to perform it, in fact. You're going to deliver earlier than Lucius will expect, and I want to ensure from the beginning that there is no doubt in his mind."

"Bellatrix, I'd rather you just tell me outright about what you plan to do."

Bella once again pouted, as if disappointed with Ginny's lack of intelligence in the matter. "Don't be daft, girl. Think!" she said, staring harshly at Ginny, tapping a finger to her own temple to emphasize the point. "I've acquired a fresh vial of Polyjuice potion."

- - -

He hadn't been near Diagon Alley in weeks, partly because the once bustling shopping district no longer held his interest, but mostly because it meant avoiding one shop, or, more accurately, its proprietors.

He almost missed the frequent stops to the store, having developed an almost friendly banter with the owners at one time. But, in recent weeks, things had changed. He no longer carried notes from Ginny, and that was the only reason they'd tolerated him. Worse, he was well aware that some of his recent actions had likely cast him in a very questionable light.

He waited until the evening, when the last of the customers of the day were leaving, and there was little chance of him being recognized. Looking about, he slipped quietly into the shop, his head covered by his cloak to avoid being recognized. Fortunately, it wasn't unusual for wizards to enter the shop that way. The Weasley products were still popular, even if most of their customers preferred to remain anonymous.

After making certain that he was only customer in the shop, he lifted his hood and approached the lone proprietor who was tending the counter.

George's eyes lifted to recognize him. "Malfoy," he stated flatly.

The less than welcoming response confirmed that word of some of his recent activities must have gotten to the twins, and others. It would make his task more difficult.

"At least you still remember me."

The twin looked at him with a mixture of hope and suspicion. Even in all the months of relaying the family correspondence to and from their sister, Draco was well aware that his status with the Weasley brothers had remained precarious.

"We haven't gotten a note from Ginny in weeks. We assume something happened," the twin said, all traces of his usual good humor noticeably absent.

Trying to keep his tone neutral, Draco placed a piece of parchment on the counter, the one that he'd asked her to write after he'd spoken to Bella. "I've got the latest from her here, but it might be a while before I can get another. It's more difficult now. I thought I'd deliver it in person. I need to talk to you."

In truth, Ginny had been afraid to write this last letter, fearing that something of her dire situation would come through in her writing style. Nevertheless, Draco had insisted she write something, at least to let the family know that she was still in good health. In any case, he hoped that delivering the note would be enough to assure the family of his trustworthiness for the time-being, so that he could enlist their aid.

George didn't open the note, not that it would matter. The words it contained would be irrelevant in helping Draco's case either way.

"Is she still safe?" her brother asked.

"For the time being, but there have been some...changes. I need to contact Potter."

"We know you've been working with Death Eater raids, Malfoy. We won't help you trap Harry. Ginny would never forgive us," he said a little too curtly.

Draco let loose a deep sigh. He'd been expecting a reaction like this, but he'd hoped that the twins might be a bit more open-minded than the rest.

It was true that he'd attended several recent attacks with his aunt, but they didn't know was that he was the one who'd let slip about the ineffectiveness of the potion that ruined the recent plan to draw Potter into the open. In a way, it was good, because his activities to help the Weasleys hadn't been detected, but unfortunately, it also left him currently at a disadvantage.

Leave it to the Weasleys to draw their own conclusions on the matter without considering all the possibilities.

"Don't be an idiot, Weasley. I'm here because this involves Ginny. She needs your help."

"No," the twin said, giving a small sneer. He looked down at the parchment and stared accusingly at Draco. "How can I even be certain that these messages are really from her? For all I know, you've been faking these all along, just to gain our trust to get to Harry."

The words caused Draco to lose his temper. This idiot was the reason that Ginny was in danger to begin with, and apparently he wasn't going to be very helpful without some less than courteous persuasion. He had to make the twin understand that this wasn't a game.

He reached across the counter and grabbed the Weasley's robe, pulling him over the counter top and making sure he was giving Draco his undivided attention. The shock of Draco's action left the twin speechless just long enough for Draco to speak.

"I don't have time for this! I need to tell Potter that he'd better get off his lazy arse and do something soon. Just deliver the message, if you don't trust to bring him to me. If things don't change for the better, Ginny will be as good as dead in about eight months."

George didn't miss the deadly seriousness in the other's eyes as he spoke, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Why? Why eight months?"

Draco stared at him, annoyed. His plan required that he have accomplices that he could trust implicitly. He'd had hoped that the twins might be willing to help, due to his past interaction with them, but he'd lost that trust, and now he had precious little time to convince them.

Suddenly, Draco watched as the twin's mouth dropped open as he realized the answer to his own question. "She's pregnant, isn't she? She's carrying that bastard's child."

Funny he should use the term bastard, Draco thought as he gritted his teeth, slowly releasing his hold, no longer willing to maintain eye contact with Ginny's brother. He hadn't planned on telling them this way. He'd hoped to be a bit more diplomatic about it, but he needed to convince them that he was serious about trying to help Potter. He needed to make sure they knew that it was because he cared about their sister.

"Lucius thinks it's his, yes." It was strange to refer to his father by his given name, but, given the circumstances, using the term 'my father' seemed wrong.

"Thinks?"

Draco shook off the question, because he had a point to make and didn't want the twin distracted. "She's safe until she gives birth. My Aunt Bellatrix is staying in the manor and has agreed to guard her. My father thinks it's to keep me away, but Bella and I have an arrangement. She will make sure nothing happens to Ginny, even if it means defying my father."

George looked confused. His concern for his sister showing plainly on his face. Draco was well aware that the twin was no fool, despite the fact that he and the family had almost no information about the true happenings inside that manor. They likely knew that Ginny had been keeping the worst details of her confinement private. Now, however, something had changed, by Draco's own admission.

Draco waited as the twin seemed to weigh the situation, likely considering the fact that Draco was the only source of information about their sister. When the twin finally decided to speak, Draco noted that he chose his words carefully.

"Pardon me for being a bit daft here, Malfoy, but from what you just said, I'm just a little confused. Why would Bellatrix Lestrange, the most twisted spawn of hell, want to protect Ginny?"

Draco sighed, and also chose his words to be deliberately vague, hoping that he could get Weasley to hear him out before the twin killed him.

"Because the child is a Black, and Bella will protect the last Pureblooded heir to her family, even at her own expense."

George spoke slowly, and Draco had time to ponder a few sharp insults in his mind about the intelligence of the Weasley clan. He held his tongue, however, as he listened to George reason it out.  
"Lucius isn't a Black, Narcissa was. And Ginny might be related, but it's a pretty distant cousin at best."

Draco paused and questioned his decision to confide in the twins. He had no other allies in this, and he was playing the Slytherin game of manipulation. He didn't have the resources to get Ginny away from there safely, at least not alone. He needed other options, and that included Potter, as distasteful as it was.

In short, he needed the Weasleys' help, and the only way he could do that was to convince them that his intentions toward their sister were honorable, even if his recent past actions had indicated otherwise. It was too late to back out now. He wondered if they might just kill him on the spot. It would certainly make his life easier if they did.

He had been able to back away all his life, but now he couldn't. Hindsight was a wonderful thing. If he'd been smart, he would have walked away as soon as his father had brought his new wife home all those months ago.

How was it that one small Weasley could have made such a mess of his perfectly laid out plan? If it was only his life in jeopardy, he could have run away to hide in his simple Muggle life until Potter came through. He would have hidden happily and safely in his Muggle stable as Derek Hanson, then quietly returned to this world if things ever changed for the better. But no, now he had a woman that he cared too much about and she was carrying his baby. Ergo, he had been forced to discover his own fatal flaw: He couldn't stand up against Voldemort for himself, but he would do it for her.

Now he had to trust these Weasleys.

He'd just given George enough information to figure out the real truth, even if it was taking him a bit of time to process the details. He decided to end George's rapid speculation and get on with it.

"Because I'm a Black, and the last blood heir and, now, so is Ginny's child." He spoke the words carefully and clearly, like a condemned man giving his last statement. Then, he waited.

He watched the blood drain from George's face as realization hit him.

"What the hell is going on with my sister?" George snarled.

The reaction was rather close to what Draco expected, and he inwardly cringed.

He looked down at the counter and calmly stated the words, hoping that death would be painless if the twin chose that option. "The child is mine, not my father's. He knows about us and I've been banished from the grounds. Bella will help us trick Lucius into thinking that it could only be his, and it will buy us time."

Draco quickly learned that the twins weren't Beaters in Quidditch without good reason. In an instant, George literally leaped over the counter and had Draco pinned to the wall. The punch to his jaw landed only a split-second later.

The blond didn't even raise a hand to defend himself, which seemed to cause George stop before throwing the desired series of punches to the younger man's face.

Still holding his throat in an uncomfortably tight grip, Draco watched George's expression of anger fade, as logic apparently took over. "Beating the stuffing out of you won't help Ginny," George eventually said, his mouth twisting in a look of resignation and disgust.

Eventually, he let out a deep sigh of defeat, loosened his hold, then asked calmly, "Why is she in danger after the baby is born?"

Draco straightened, rubbing at his jaw to ensure that it still worked properly before he spoke.

"Because Bella only cares about the child. Ginny has no value to her., so after the baby is born, her life is expendable. If she does anything that displeases them, they would certainly not hesitate to do something that would destroy her mind. They don't want Ginny's influence to corrupt him, like they think my mother corrupted me."

George pondered the words for a long moment before releasing him, albeit reluctantly.

He looked down at Draco sternly, his anger still apparent. "And what if Lucius finds out the baby isn't his?"

Draco rubbed at his sore throat, thinking that, oddly enough, he was making progress. "I'd rather not think about that, if you don't mind. In any case, Bella will do her best to make sure that doesn't happen. There's no one more capable than Bella for that."

The two paused, staring awkwardly at each other for a moment before both looked away. For George, it was rather unexpected and disturbing news. He was obviously having very mixed feelings about the blond man who was standing in his shop, and Draco couldn't say that he blamed him.

Finally, George cleared his throat, causing Draco to look back up at him. "Your father is a sodding  
monster, Malfoy. I would have died rather than let it come to this for Ginny."

"You try to tell her that," Draco replied bitterly, wiping a trickle of blood from his chin. "You must know how stubborn she is."

George's anger seemed to subside as he thought about the other's words. After a long pause, he looked up, accusingly. "And what about you, Malfoy? What do you want with my sister?" George asked, honest concern showing on his face.

"If I could, I'd take her out of there and go into hiding somewhere."

"Are you saying you care about her?"

He nodded, reluctantly. He didn't want to say more, but they had to know, or they probably wouldn't help. "I'm saying that I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe," he responded not meeting the other man's gaze.

"You have a place to hide?"

"I've been building an alternate life for myself for some time. It's safe for the time being."

"So, get her out of there, man! If you can get to her, you can save her!" the twin shouted at him.

Draco scowled.

"Do you think I haven't wanted to do that?" he asked, his voice rising in an uncharacteristic display of temper.

"Well, if you did, then why is she still there?" George shouted back.

Draco felt his temper snap, almost as if it were a physical thing that had let loose. All these months, her own family had left her there, living their nice, quiet lives, while Ginny remained trapped. Granted, they had no idea that she was magically bound, but at the very least, they could have tried. Instead, they expected him to do their work for them. His patience had finally reached its limit. He didn't like being told what to do.

"Just to remind you, I tried to get her to leave before this would have been an issue, but she wouldn't go because she didn't want him taking revenge out on any of you, her family, which, for your information, is the reason she's in this mess in the first place."

George looked almost as if he'd been struck at the reminder that he'd been the reason she'd signed into the contract. Yet, Draco felt no pity. Worse, he felt himself launching on a tirade, but he no longer cared because he'd held in his opinions of the situation for far too long.

He pointed a finger at the twin's chest to emphasizes his point. "I already told you, my father knows about us. He knows I care about her. He knows that if she disappears without a good explanation that I, sure as fuck, had a hand in it. He'd spend every minute of every day trying to find us, and no doubt he'll hunt down every last one of you in the process. And when he finds us, our deaths will be ugly, I assure you. So, you bloody thick pillock, don't you dare go laying any of this on me."

George stood speechless for a long moment, looking shocked and then contrite. He knew it to be true. Good. He was, after all, the entire reason that she was in this predicament in the first place. She'd given up her freedom in exchange for his life. Draco had no intention of letting them forget that, ever.

"Are you at least willing to do right by her?" her brother asked, his expression softening to something resembling defeat.

"She deserves a family and a happy life, and I'm more than willing to try to make up for the horror my father has put her through, if that's what you're asking." he said. It wasn't exactly an answer, but he didn't feel that they deserved to know the exact depth of his feelings for the girl. He was tired of this discussion, either they'd help him or he'd have to find his own way, but either way he wasn't going to get his answer from this man tonight.

He moved toward the door, turning back to remind the twin of why he was really there, "Find Potter. Tell him I'll do whatever it takes to help him end this. Tell him whatever you need to get him off his sorry arse or I'll do it without him. I'll stop by next week, same time, to see if you have an answer."

George nodded dumbly. He'd just gotten a lot of information that he needed to process and, for one of the few times in his life, he found himself struck speechless. He could only stare as the blond man pulled up the hood of his cloak and strode into the cooling fall night.


	19. Chapter 19 Playing the Game

A/N - Well.. typically I post first at , but they are down, and I am impatient to get more feedback. LOL.

I'll post this on d&g after it's done with beta.

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Chap 20 - Playing the Game

She walked into the house, absently acknowledging Bella as she moved toward her room. Even the comfort of playing with Teddy would be of little help to her mood. She'd come to the distasteful conclusion, that, in the best interest of the baby she now carried, she was going to have to seduce her husband in order to imply that her child might be his.

It wasn't as easy as she'd hoped. She sat in the family parlor, awaiting the arrival of the Healer, and tried her best to distract herself with an embroidery spell. The needlework required a bit of accuracy, and playing with the magic gave her an outlet to focus her troubled thoughts.

Lucius rose from his chair, and walked toward her, distracting her from her spell, and causing the needle to prick her finger.

"Ouch!" she squeaked, putting the injured digit in her mouth and looking up at her husband with no small amount of trepidation. She watched Lucius set his book down and look at her coldly. She bowed her head, and closed her eyes briefly, hoping to appear appropriately contrite. In a way, it wasn't hard. She truly did carry some amount of guilt about her actions.

She didn't look up at him as he moved toward her. "My Lord..." she said, her voice quavering slightly.

"Allow me," he said, almost kindly, as he took her hand to examine the injury.

She stared at the sight of him holding her hand and gave an involuntary shiver. She'd become accustomed to curt words, harsh looks, and even beatings from the man, but this unexpected concern left her confused and almost alarmed.

"Hardly even worthy of casting a spell to fix it," he said, but, nevertheless he extracted his wand and waved it over the prick, healing it instantly.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

He tugged on her hand, inviting her to stand, and she complied. His hand continued to grasp hers, and he brought his other hand to her chin, lifting her face so that he could look more intently into her eyes, as if searching for deception.

"I've learned much in recent days, Ginevra," he said, his expression becoming remarkably intense, reminding her of Draco in the most uncomfortable way.

She wasn't certain what he was talking about, exactly. From the lack of anger in his expression, she could only assume that Bella had somehow managed to convince him to forgive her. She chose her words carefully. "May I ask what, My Lord?"

He smiled slightly, although it wasn't exactly a pleasant expression, moving his hand to trace her jawbone, resting his fingers lightly under her chin.

"You wish for a family, as do I. Perhaps it truly is time for the two of us to put aside our differences," he said, almost kindly.

"I...I..."

This was good news. He wanted to make amends, yet, the very thought made her feel ill.

"Bella has spoken to me. I know that you were Imperioused."

The remark left her surprised, leaving her uncertain of how to respond. "She told you that?"

She mentally cursed Bella for not telling her what she'd been saying to Lucius. At the very least, the witch could have let her know, so that she could have some sort of response prepared. She suspected Bella was likely just outside the door, laughing at this very moment for putting her in such an awkward position.

"Draco admitted the crime to her. I cannot hold you responsible for being used. His intention was to drive me away from you, and he nearly succeeded." He gave a long pause, studying her closely. "Why did you not tell me?"

She swallowed and gave the most truthful answer she could. "Would you have believed me?"

He dropped his hand from her chin and looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. "No, but fortunately, Bella and I have a common interest in this matter. The truth, fortunately, came forth."

She nodded, unsure of what to say.

"However, I don't feel that you have been entirely innocent in this matter. I have not yet forgiven you," he said, his voice becoming colder. She nearly cried, she needed to convince him, and Bella had been doing her best to soften him to the idea of forgiving her. She dropped her head and tried to suppress a genuine sob.

He turned his head slightly, catching her unhappy reaction. He seemed pensive for a long moment before speaking again. "I will consider it, however," he said. "You understand, however, that I've called the Healer to make certain that there are no more deceptions that will come forth."

She didn't look up at him, only nodding in agreement. She could only hope that the plan would work, as there was only a short window of opportunity before her pregnancy would become obvious to him.

"I still believe that you were the correct choice to be my wife, Ginevra," he said seriously.

The words were chilling, in a way, and she had no idea how to respond, yet, he seemed to be awaiting some sort of response. She responded with the only thing that came to mind. "Th...Thank you, My Lord," she stammered.

- - -

She left the room slowly, her head remaining bowed, but the action was difficult, because she was more than slightly alarmed and every fiber of her body wanted to run to find Bella.

She didn't have far, as the mad witch was waiting for her just outside the door, obviously eavesdropping. As Ginny stopped short, Bella gave her a devilish smile and pressed a finger up against her blood red lips to indicate that Ginny remain silent. She quickly grabbed Ginny by the hand, pulling her along the hallway and into Ginny's parlor.

"Oh, this is perfect!" Bella exclaimed, as soon as she shut the door behind them. She turned to Ginny, rubbing her hands together in glee. Ginny could only feel the bile rising in her throat, as she wondered what in the world Draco had been thinking when he confided in this witch.

"How is it perfect, Bella? He isn't close to forgiving me."

The older witch stared at her for a long moment, looking Ginny over critically. "Obviously, neither of them is interested in you for your brains," Bella ranted. "Since when does that have anything to do with what men want? Don't be stupid, girl. You must learn to take these little setbacks as challenges. There's always a way to twist circumstances in our own favor."

The remark against her intelligence rankled Ginny to no end, but didn't think that starting an argument was in her best interest at the moment. She settled for merely looking irritated.

Bella raised an eyebrow, placed her hands on her hips and let out a rather exasperated sigh. "Oh, come now, no need to pout."

"I'm not pouting," she spat back.

"Of course not," Bella replied, her frightening form of good humor returning. "I'll go and soothe Lucius's nerves for a bit. When I get back, we'll plan how to best switch places, hmmm?"

"Thank you, Bella," she said, swallowing her pride and hoping that Bella truly would help her through this. It was a precarious situation, at best.

"My pleasure, my dear. I did say it would be fun, didn't? "

Ginny responded with a defeated sigh.

Bella's smile turned absolutely feral, causing Ginny to cringe slightly. "No need to fear about this. It's no wonder he's fallen for you, my dear. For a moment, a few moments ago, I think he suspected that you actually cared about him." The witch paused to give a harsh bark of laughter as she looked knowingly at Ginny, "He'll be putty in your hands soon enough."

Ginny gaped at the audacity of her words, but had no words to respond. With that, Bella gave her a pat on the cheek and moved toward the door. "Wait here, I'll come and fetch you when the Healer arrives."

- - -

- - -

Ginny was hiding upstairs in the nursery with Teddy, waiting nervously when Bella entered the room with her usual flair to retrieve her.

"He's arrived. I volunteered to find you," Bella stated, her abrupt tone causing the nanny, Veronique, to jump in nervous fear. Ginny had a brief moment of feeling sorry for the woman, but the feeling passed quickly as her attention quickly focused on the seriousness of her own situation.

As Bella pulled her from the room and into her private chamber, Ginny found the witch's presence oddly comforting. The evil witch exuded so much self-confidence, that there seemed little doubt that the plan would work.

Entering the room, Bella motioned that Ginny close the door and she immediately went to one of the drawers in her vanity to pull out a large vial of ugly brown potion.

"Well, hurry up girl, get out of those clothes. You won't be able to fit into them after taking this."

Snapping to her senses, Ginny immediately began to disrobe. In a moment of annoyance she grabbed Bella's dressing gown to preserve her modesty, causing Bella to merely roll her eyes with a mixture of amusement and impatience.

"Modest little thing, aren't you?" Bella said, stripping down to her knickers with absolutely no indication of shyness.

Pouring have the vial's contents into a glass, she then yanked a strand of her wild hair and carefully inserted it into the glass. Walking over to Ginny, she presented the glass with a cheerful smile.

As Ginny began to raise the glass of rather vile-looking liquid to her lips, she felt the sharp sting of Bella plucking a hair from her head for her own potion. She paused to scowl at the other witch. Bella placed Ginny's hair into the vial, swirled the contents carefully, and then raised it toward Ginny as if in a toast.

Ginny paused for a moment, staring at the glass. "Oh don't dawdle, girl, we haven't much time," Bella scolded. "To success," she said, placing the vial to her lips and tossing back the contents, her eyes locked to Ginny's as if daring her to do the same.

She did, ignoring the absolutely vile taste and consistency of the potion. A moment passed where she worried about the potion having any negative effects on the baby, but the thought came too late. She'd already swallowed the liquid and could feel its effects already starting to morph her features.

Bella was slightly taller than she, and the first thing she noticed was the difference in height. Other than that, she watched with morbid fascination as Bella's appearance altered to hers. They hurriedly switched clothes, almost before the potion had completed its work, and once finished, Ginny looked up to analyze Bella's transformation.

She saw herself, looking back at her with a sharp expression in her eyes. The look on Bella-Ginny's face was not something that Ginny had ever seen on her own features. If Bella looked like that in front of Lucius, their plan would fail.

"What are you staring at?" Bella asked abruptly.

"You do realize they will notice that something is amiss if you continue to behave like yourself in front of them, don't you?" Ginny said.

Bella merely laughed. "I could say the same for you."

Ginny glared at the other witch, and was surprised to see her smile sweetly back at her. "That expression will do nicely.."

"Bella..."

"Careful, girl," the other responded harshly, "You mustn't call me by name. I'm supposed to be you."

Ginny drew herself up, stared down at the other woman and gave her a mocking smile, imitating the witch as best she could. "Then don't call me 'girl',"she responded sharply.

Seeing Bella's smile on her own face in response to her remark was nothing less than completely disturbing. "Nicely done. Now, don't worry, my dear. Once we walk into the room, I intend to play the role of the helpless kitten."

Somehow, Bella's assurance gave her little comfort as they walked toward the study together.

However, true to her word, Bella act appropriately demure the moment they entered the room. In fact, Bella seemed quite at ease with the deception. Ginny merely remained by the door, her arms crossed, and looking quite severe as she eyed Bella's act critically. All in all, it was an appropriate expression.

"There's no reason for you to remain, Bella," Lucius said, rather rudely.

She almost turned to leave, but Bella-Ginny looked at her sharply, reminding her of her role. She was suddenly hit with a epiphany of sorts, as she comprehended the power of being disguised as Bella. For the first time, she could look at Lucius with all the loathing she'd felt for the past six months without fear. It was liberating.

"I'm here to give..." she paused, almost slipping on the name, "Ginevra my support." Fortunately, the pause was taken as dramatic effect. She decided to talk a bit more to cover the small slip. "Surely, you understand a witch welcoming female company for a situation like this."

"Hmmph," was all Lucius stated in response. Ginny gave him a small smile, knowing that it irritated him. While he was irritated, he would be distracted and wouldn't notice any minor character deviations from either of them.

She looked over at Bella, who was doing a remarkably good job of being quiet as the Healer directed her to sit as he cast his usual spells upon her.

"Check for any residual magic from potions or hexes," Lucius directed.

The Healer looked surprised by the question, and paused to look seriously at Lucius. "Do you have reason to believe that she might have been attacked?"

"Yes."

The Healer continued, focusing his efforts on spells that might have damaged her in some way. Ginny easily recognized the moment he cast a spell to verify that she wasn't already pregnant. Carefully, she watched for Lucius' reaction, knowing that he was also watching the Healer's work with interest.

Looking for a reason to keep Lucius and the Healer off-balance, Ginny walked closer to the Healer and searched for anything to say that might provoke him. She wasn't entirely certain that the Healer would be able to tell that the woman he was examining was quite a bit older than expected, despite the Polyjuice, and keeping him off-balance would certainly force him to overlook such things.

"Did you dress in the dark this morning?" she asked, staring at the man critically. "That tie is absolutely ghastly."

She watched the man blanch as he continued to attempt to do his work. She caught Bella-Ginny raise an eyebrow at her, and a momentary twinkle shone in her eye, which Ginny took as approval at the remark.

"Bella, must you feel the need to comment on everything?" Lucius stated, looking quite annoyed. Ginny allowed herself to smile, knowing Bella would certainly have no desire to hide her pleasure at annoying someone. Besides, Ginny was feeling genuinely pleased at knowing her remark had created its desired effect. Lucius's attention was now drawn to her instead of the ongoing examination, and the Healer now appeared distracted as well, since he had drawn the negative attention of the most feared witch in the wizarding world.

"I was simply being helpful to the pathetic man," she said sharply to Lucius, causing him to bristle further. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Healer cringe. She looked coyly at the Healer, and smiled in satisfaction as she noticed his wand hand tremble as he continued the examination.

"You may leave, at any time," Lucius stated, his tone dark and formidable. Ginny forced herself not to cringe. She reminded herself that, for the next hour, she had the freedom to say whatever she liked, without retribution. It was a glorious feeling.

"Well, someone should be here for Ginevra's sake. Merlin knows how she can stand being in the company of only you for so long."

Lucius began to turn red, and Ginny knew her words had struck a nerve. Without a doubt, he was reminded about why she had turned to Draco for companionship. A feeling of satisfaction washed over her, and she had an urge to spit another taunt at him, but forced herself to hold back. Pushing him too far would likely ruin everything.

"Hawkins, are you quite finished yet?" Lucius said impatiently, turning his attention away from her. Ginny smiled again. He was hurrying the Healer, preventing the man from doing a thorough examination of Bella-Ginny.

"Yes, I'm done," he said. She detected a slight shake in his voice. Good. The Healer held a healthy fear of both Bella and Lucius. It was perfect situation, for the moment.

"And your conclusions?" Lucius prompted.

The Healer stammered, looking at Lucius. "No potions or hexes are in her system..."

She allowed the Healer to prattle on for a few moments, making sure that he stated what needed to be said before interrupting. "Oh, please. I've been watching. She's fine. Nothing's been done to her. Isn't that right, Mr. Hawkins?" Ginny interrupted, hoping that her nervousness would be interpreted as Bella's typical flair.

Lucius merely glared at her again, obviously anxious to end the meeting if it would make her go away. She smiled, thinking to herself that it was no wonder Bella irritated him so deliberately. It really was rather enjoyable.

"Bella, why don't you see Mr. Hawkins out."

Ginny froze. The idea of leaving Bella alone with Lucius was disturbing. Anything might happen. She glanced over to Bella, who gave her a nod. Bella would handle it, if need be.

She gave the Healer a smile and motioned for him to follow her, watching in amusement as the man gulped nervously. Ginny had a brief moment of sympathy for the man, but found herself getting over it quickly. She found that she didn't particularly like the man, ever since he'd so callously revealed to Lucius about her being on the contraceptive potion in the past.

As they moved toward the entryway, she paused. "I presume that you have found nothing amiss."

"Umm," he said, nervously.

"Good," she said. "You'll be paid well for your services." She paused dramatically and looked at him with intensity. "I expect that you will find nothing amiss in the future, as well." Her tone gave a slight edge of warning, and he shuddered.

"Of course," he said, shakily. And, for the first time, Ginny found herself appreciating Bella. It was entirely possible, that, if left alone to examine further, the Healer would have discovered that the woman he had just examined was not quite as young as she appeared. As it was, it was entirely likely he already suspected something was not right, but her mild warning was going to be taken quite seriously. Ginny was certain that when he returned in the near future, he was not going to say anything that might contradict Bella's wishes. His fear of Bella insured that he would not give away the fact that her pregnancy would be further along than expected.

After he exited the manor, Ginny leaned back against the door with a sigh of relief.

The clock chimed, pulling her from her momentary reprieve, as she remembered that she would have to make sure that she and Bella were away from Lucius when the potion wore off. She marched back down the hallway, almost regretting that she couldn't remain in Bella's form just a bit longer.

Arriving at the study, she paused to knock, then stopped before her knuckles contacted the wood. She gave a soft snort, realizing that Bella would offer no such courtesy, and simply opened the door to enter.

The sight that greeted her was shocking. She saw Lucius, seated in his chair, with Bella on his lap, her legs straddling his waist. The pair were kissing passionately. Fortunately, they were so occupied that they didn't notice the look of shock on her face, giving her a moment to compose herself.

Clearing her throat loudly, she watched as the two pulled apart, only looking slightly abashed. "Really Lucius, in the middle of the afternoon?" she said loudly.

"Bella, your presence is not needed here," he snapped, clearly angry that she'd interrupted them.

Ginny watched as the woman impersonating her pulled herself from Lucius's lap, a rather satisfied grin on her face. Ginny crossed her arms in annoyance, although she was sure Lucius only assumed that the look was intended for him.

"I wished to speak with Ginevra, not you," she said, giving the other woman a curt nod.

"Whatever you need to say, get on with it, and leave," he growled back angrily.

"Good heavens, Lucius. You've been away from the girl for weeks, surely you can contain yourself for a few hours," she said, allowing her annoyance to show. "Anyway, it's important."

He glared at her, but Bella was already moving toward the door.

Bella-Ginny glanced back at him in an annoyingly flirtatious manner. "I'll see you at dinner," Bella said.

The words forced Ginny turned away and cringe. The way Bella had casually addressed him was completely out of character. She hoped that Lucius remained irritated enough that he failed to notice.

After Bella had followed her into the hall, Ginny grabbed her arm, causing Bella-Ginny to look up at her with a disturbingly smug grin.

"What were you doing in there?" Ginny growled. Being in Bella's form, Ginny was a bit taller, and it felt rather empowering to look down on someone, even if the someone happened to look just like her.

"I was only helping things along. I couldn't possibly turn him down when he approached me," she said, rather cattily. "He seems rather eager to resume relations, it seems."

"He approached you," Ginny said accusingly to the woman who currently looked like herself.

In that moment, Bella-Ginny lost any semblance of the quiet girl who'd been in the parlor earlier. She held out her hand, as if carelessly examining her nails. "Of course. He was rather sweet, actually. When he kissed me, I decided that it wouldn't be very helpful if I turned him down."

While this was good news, somehow, the entire idea was rather unsettling to Ginny, in more than one way. Lucius's abrupt willingness to forgive, or at least move on, was difficult enough. But with Bella... she didn't want to think about it.

"Wonderful," Ginny muttered as they walked back toward Bella's suite of rooms.

"Oh, please, Ginevra. I was doing you a favor. If you'd waited a few more minutes to interrupt, you wouldn't have needed to sleep with him tonight. As it is, he'll be more than eager for you now."

"And what if he suspected that you weren't acting quite like me?"

Bella laughed. "You are so naïve, child! Men don't notice such things. When it comes to the bedroom, they only see what is convenient. I would think your experience over the last few months would have proven that to you."

She stared at the older witch for a long moment, speechless, her mouth slightly agape. Bella was incorrigible. Seeing this side of her, was, in its own way, fascinating, especially considering that Ginny had experienced the effect Bella had on people first hand.

Bella leaned forward, and patted the bottom of her chin so that she closed her mouth.

"You are so amusing, darling. No wonder he married you," she continued. Putting on a robe, she seated herself in the nearest chair, casually draping her hands over the arm of the chair and crossing her legs. She looked at Ginny in speculation. "I don't think I was ever quite so limited in my thinking."

"This isn't funny, Bella!"

"Oh, pooh," she replied. "Don't tell me that you're jealous."

Ginny blinked. She was quite certain she wasn't jealous, but the entire idea of Bella and Lucius was simply...well...weird.

"Oh, please," Bella-Ginny continued, "I doubt that you are jealous," her voice needling and Ginny found it rather annoying, and wondered if her voice really sounded like that.

"No, of course I'm not jealous. It's just...strange!" She watched the version of her self turn back toward her as they continued their journey through the house. "Need I remind you that you are supposed to be acting like me?"

She glared at the other woman, completely forgetting that the small redhead at her side secretly contained a maniac. It was most disconcerting, but while Bella looked like her, Ginny couldn't bring herself to be intimidated like she normally would have been. She instinctively seemed to look at the woman as something more like a schoolmate, albeit an odd one.

"I did not give you permission to ... play with him. You reminded me so very harshly about me not doing anything to cause suspicion while you go and do something completely out of character! He could have noticed!"

She watched the other witch laugh, and, analytically, thought that the sound, coming from the body that looked like hers was relatively pleasant, as opposed to Bella's harsh normal tone. Shaking off the thought, she turned on Bella, her own voice sounding harsh to her own ears. "If you've messed this up for me, Bella, I swear I'll make certain that you have more than Lucius and your precious heir to worry about."

Bella stopped short, a pleased smile lighting her face. "Ooooh! The kitten has claws! I knew there was more to you, Ginevra! That's why I wanted to get to know you!"

The words made Ginny stop short, causing Bella-Ginny to grab her arm in a an almost friendly manner to tug her along. "This is not funny, Bella!"

"Oh stop being such a spoilsport! I did you a favor! Now, come along before the potion wears off."

Ginny followed unwillingly. They still had a few minutes before they would change back, and she found herself appalled at the odd comraderie that seemed to be developing between Bella and herself. It wasn't right. Yet, there it was: cruel, evil Bella was bickering with her as if they were schoolmates. Ginny suddenly had the horrible realization that, at the moment, Bella seemed to be her best and only friend.

Reaching Bella's suite of rooms, they entered, Ginny shutting the door behind them, with an uncomfortable thud. She decided that if she spent too much time with Bella, that she was likely to soon find herself going as mad as the older witch.

Bella was already stripping off her dress and pulling herself into a dressing gown in anticipation of when the potion would complete it's course and change her back to her own body. Ginny slowly did the same, hoping that the transformation would happen sooner rather than later, because, apparently, Bella had found more topics with which to continue their rather unusual conversation.

Ginny sat by the window, her blood red nails drumming on the sill, as she rested her chin on her left hand.

"You know, darling," Bella prattled on. "We had a few spare minutes, if you'd left me with him a bit longer, I would have saved you the trouble of having to sleep with him again."

Ginny's fingers froze in mid-tap as she looked over at Bella. "I can't believe you just said that."

"Well, it's not like I haven't wondered about it for years..." Bella said, carelessly draping herself over the upholstered armchair across from her. "Lucius is a rather attractive man, after all."

"You're married, Bella. I'm sure your husband wouldn't appreciate your sentiment."

Bella' face scrunched into a disappointed pout as she made a "Tut, tut" noise. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him." Then the pout disappeared and a smile crossed the witch's features, as if she'd just thought of something brilliant.

Ginny fervently hoped that the potion would wear off soon, because it was deeply disturbing to see that particular expression on her own face. "I learned enough, for now," she said, with only a slightly catty tone. Somehow, Ginny didn't seem to mind the taunt, as Bella's drama had somehow lost its effect after spending several weeks with the witch.

"But," Bella continued, her smile widening. "I would love to know if Draco is as well endowed as his father..."

Ginny immediately felt all the blood drain from her face as her mouth dropped open at the audacity of the remark, although she had to admit that she envied Bella's unrestrained candor. Unwillingly, her thoughts turned to the mental comparison of the two men, and she felt her cheeks blush furiously. Bella's laughter at her reaction echoed throughout the room.

At that point, Bella's hair began to change back, and Ginny felt the beginnings of her own body changing as well. The timing couldn't have been better, as it saved Ginny from actually responding to the question.

"Well, perhaps that is a topic for another time," Bella said, lifting her hand to watch her fingernails grow back to their signature length and color.

"I think it's best for me to be going, Bella. Although this conversation has been more than enlightening. It's almost time for me to dress for dinner."

Bella cackled, her harsh voice fully returned. "Of course, my dear. It was fun, wasn't it?"

Ginny nodded in resigned agreement, as she quickly slipped into her own clothing. It had actually been a bit fun to speak her mind for a bit, even if she had been in the character of Bella at the time. It actually bothered her greatly to acknowledge that fact. "Thank you for your help," she said, feeling that she should at least appear to be grateful. After all, being in Bella's good graces was somewhat important for her, and her baby's, well-being.

"Well, we're not quite out of the woods yet," Bella reminded her. "Though I do expect that tomorrow you'll be sharing with me all the sordid details." And with those words, Bella gave her a saucy wink.

Yes, she thought, spending much more time with Bella was definitely going to drive her completely insane.

- - -

It was with deep trepidation that Ginny readied herself for bed that night, gently placing a hand on her stomach, and reminding herself why she needed to do this.

She felt slightly ill, and she was quite certain it had nothing to do with her pregnancy.

Bella's influence to delay the development of the potion wouldn't last much longer. Once it was complete, and tested on innocent others, Bella had been quite candid about letting her know that Lucius intended to use it on her. Not that she fully trusted Bella, but pieces of conversation that she'd overheard had confirmed Bella's words.

Her revulsion toward the man made her stomach turn at the thought of what she needed to do. She had to convince him that, not only was her child his, but that she was willing to be the wife that he wanted her to be.

Bella had again offered to seduce Lucius in her place, and a major portion of her mind wished that she'd accepted. Obviously, Bella was concerned that Ginny didn't have the fortitude to succeed. In a way, she wanted to do it, if only to prove to Bella that she was stronger than the mad witch surmised. But, her reasons were far deeper. This had to be the start of Ginny fully accepting her role in this house and her marriage. She'd acquiesced to the role when she was first married, but thought of herself as only a prisoner. Now, her views were changing as she began to accept that her actions were going to affect her quality of life for years to come.

If she didn't convince Lucius that she was worthy of him, he was going to poison her, and she'd likely lose any opportunity to give her unborn child any semblance of a normal life and a normal parent. Bella had bought her some time by delaying Rodolphus's work, but eventually, the potion would be complete. She needed to convince Lucius sooner rather than later.

As she prepared to walk into Lucius's room, she used every last bit of skill that she'd acquired over the months to mentally move aside her own personality. Every part of her that loved Draco, every part of her that was Weasley was shoved into a mental closet inside her own mind and she shut the door.

What was left could only be described as an empty shell of herself, something like an incomplete echo. She felt ruthless and ambitious. After taking her own emotions out of the equation, she could objectively see that her husband was basically an attractive and passionate man, although his passions were misplaced in his mad obsession with the Dark Lord. She felt powerful that she had a chance to influence that, and she intended to do so for her own gain.

Walking toward him, she lifted her chin slightly, looking him in they eyes. A flicker of her emotions started to cringe in the back of her mind, but she shoved it back into place ruthlessly. She refused to allow anything to jeopardize this plan. She'd learned a great deal in the past week or so, and she couldn't believe that Bella had been so very useful in teaching her how to cope.

Lucius reached for her. "Dare I presume that our differences can finally be put aside?"

She placed her hands on his chest, her hands reaching beneath his robe, feeling something deep inside her mind sob. She ignored it, tracing her fingers gently across his smooth skin. He was a handsome man, if a bit older than she.

She nodded. "I would like us to start over properly, My Lord," she replied, her voice dropping as she looked up at him honestly. It was partly true. She did want to start over in order to protect herself.

He smiled, reaching his hands around her waist and pulling her close. "I knew that you would eventually see things in the proper light. I do know what is best for you, Ginevra. We will be a powerful force together. You will see."

She nodded. She understood. He wanted and needed her not only physically, but politically. After having pushed aside her emotion, it was clear that there was potential for her to influence her family and former friends to be more reasonable under Voldemort's rule. She could use that to her advantage in manipulating Lucius over time.

But first, she needed to convince him that she had no feelings for anyone other than him. She smiled up at her husband, tracing her fingers up along his neck to reach the side of his face, analyzing him more objectively than she had in the past. She stared at his mouth, as it twisted into a satisfied smile.

He touched his fingers to her chin, lifting it slightly as he leaned in to kiss her.

He was almost tentative, at first, as if waiting for her to pull away. She didn't. The echo of the part of her that she'd locked away still cringed, and she once again forced herself to ignore it.

He pulled away, still looking at her, but with some skepticism. He didn't trust her.

"Bella's helped me to understand a great deal," she said, wanting him to understand that there was a reason for her change of feelings toward him.

"Yes, you said that this afternoon," he replied. A spark of anger toward Bella flared briefly. The witch really needed to be more forthcoming with what she had said to him, so that Ginny could be prepared. Unfortunately, the unexpected emotion had allowed her own feelings to start to re-emerge from the mental closet. The moment was awkward.

"There's nothing for me to gain in fighting you, Lucius. I know that now. I want us to both move forward to something that is mutually beneficial."

He scowled. It had been the wrong thing to say.

"Beneficial?"

She didn't remove her hand from his neck, but tried to step away. She needed to redirect what he presumed were her intentions.

"I know it's foolish of me to resist the Dark Lord. Isn't that what you want? Bella said..."

"Enough talk of Bella. You are here with me now."

She smiled, hoping that her expression appeared to be shy and seductive. His answering smile held a hint of smugness and she knew that redirecting her misspoken words toward Bella had been the right tactic.

He ran his hands down the silk covering on her arms, staring at her fitted dressing gown with an appraising eye. "You look lovely, this evening, my dear."

Again, she smiled, almost forcing herself to blush at the compliment. It was time.

Reaching to her waist, she loosened the tie to her dressing gown, knowing she was wearing nothing underneath. The tiny voice in the mental closet continued to try to distract her with a feeling of revulsion, and she angrily shoved it back in. The part of her that now remained was pure ambition. She needed this to work. Draco was gone, and might never return. By the magical contract she signed, this was her life. She could never leave this house, and she *had* to succeed in this endeavor if she was going to save her own life and at least have a chance to raise her son. There was no room left for her conscience, or her morals, or her love.

She dropped the gown, allowing the soft fabric to pool around her ankles, and watching the gleam come to Lucius's eyes. It was working.

Stepping forward, she once again reached her arms up around her husbands neck and kissed him passionately. He returned the kiss, his hands lightly tracing along her sides, her back, and finally to her buttocks as he pulled her near. It was sensual and passionate, and she allowed herself to echo back the same feeling toward him.

The thought of Bella's lust for life entered her mind, strangely enough. In that moment, she realized that Bella had indeed influenced, perhaps even helped her. Ginny thought of how Bella, perhaps as a result of her years in Azkaban reveled in living in the moment. Bella gave no care for the consequences, and lived each moment without fear. Granted, Ginny didn't have the power, or the favor of Voldemort that Bella did, but she'd learned there was much to be said for simply letting go, consequences be damned.

She wasn't going to delude herself that Bella was anything but evil, but nevertheless, walking an hour in Bella's shoes had given her a taste of what it was like to be so unrestrained and she used the feeling to drive herself forward.

- - -

One week after his initial visit, Draco returned to the Weasley shop, once again in the cover of dark, now that the days were shortening for winter. Both twins were at the counter waiting on the one customer in the shop. He made eye contact with one twin when he looked up, and received a slight nod. As the customer left, the twin casually walked over to the door, checked that there was no activity nearby and set the locks, following it with quick wards and a silencing charm.

Draco pulled down his hood and walked up to the twin, the other remaining quietly behind the counter.

"Do you have any information for me," he asked, skipping all salutations.

"First things first, Malfoy," he said, and, without warning, the man punched him solidly in the eye. The unexpected hit sent Draco sprawling backwards, landing squarely on his arse.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" he shouted, bringing his hand up to his injured face.

"That's because I didn't get a chance to do that last week," he replied.

Draco to groan in realization that this was the 'other' twin. He got up painfully and brushed his clothes off before touching his face tenderly. After his encounter with the first twin, George, he'd made the assumption that it would be the end of the violence against him. Apparently, he was mistaken, and the reaction made him once again question his decision to enlist their help.

"I want to know what the hell is going on between you and my sister," he continued, as Draco slowly pulled himself off the floor.

"As I told your brother last week..." he began to say, forcing himself to be patient, despite the fact that they seemed to be particularly thick.

He never got a chance to finish, because his assailant seemed far too interested in ranting. "You've got a lot of nerve coming in here, telling us she's in danger, when you're the one responsible for putting her there."

Draco's irritation at the situation inspired him to snap back. "If you're referring to the baby, it was only a matter of time before my father would have been responsible, anyway."

Fred punched him again. Same eye.

"Hey!" Draco yelped, stumbling back but this time remaining upright, his hand covering his quickly  
swelling eye. "It's the truth!"

"I'll remind you that you are talking about my baby sister."

Draco had to admit to himself that he could have stated that little factoid with a bit more tact.

He also noted that the other brother, George, remained quietly leaning against the counter, his arms crossed, not joining in, but certainly not looking like he was going to lift a finger to stop this altercation. Draco was outnumbered, not that it mattered. He groaned in defeat. Unfortunately, he desperately needed their help.

"Sorry..." he muttered.

Both twins seemed to calm after that, although Fred continued to look at him critically.

"So, are you able to help me or not?" Draco asked, deciding that further conversation would likely only get him into more trouble.

"Maybe," he replied, George now moving to stand beside his brother. "First, I need to know exactly what you were doing helping Bellatrix Lestrange on the night Nymphadora Tonks was killed."

Draco closed his eyes and gave a deep sigh. He hadn't intended to tell them about his recent activity with his aunt, but, as he looked up at the pair of Weasleys, he realized he had little choice.

"Yes, I was there..."

- - - -

Derek Hanson lay on the bed in his apartment, staring at the ceiling. He was tired of being alone in that bed. He'd only shared it once, and that had been far too long ago.

He rubbed absently at his eye. The bruising was finally beginning to fade, but the area had started to itch as the healing continued. He'd thought about using magic to minimize the mark, but something had stopped him. Perhaps he was becoming more accustomed to living without magic, since he'd started living among Muggles full-time for the past month, and every weekend for almost two years prior to that. Perhaps a part of him felt that he'd deserved the punishment dealt by Ginny's brother for putting her in danger by having a relationship with her. He wasn't sure.

He'd received some inquiry from his mates and co-workers about what had happened. He'd only grumbled to them that it was over a girl, which was true. If anything, the injury and his reasons for it had explained much of why he'd been in such a foul mood at work over the past few weeks. His mates had already assumed that he'd been having troubles with a girlfriend, and had been repeatedly offering their help and advice. If he didn't like the blokes so much, he might have hexed them, despite the consequences. Unfortunately, they had no clue of how convoluted his problem had become.

So, to pass the time, he thought of her. She gave him purpose now, where he'd had a life and a future before, he'd only been passing time. Now, she'd given him a reason to do things that otherwise, he never would have imagined. It was still difficult for him to believe that he'd taken her to this very room almost a year ago for what seemed to be a simple tryst.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his door, and he instantly became alert. Even after living there for some time, he'd never gotten used to the sound, each time wondering if he'd been found by the wrong people.

He opened the door cautiously to find two men standing on the stairs. As Fred Weasley gave him the code they'd agreed upon, he relaxed in relief and looked behind him to identify the figure in the shadows behind him, whose face was obscured by the hood of a tattered sweatshirt. He remained on guard, but motioned the two inside.

As the second visitor lowered his hood, and looked at him suspiciously, Derek found himself release the breath he'd been holding. Then, surprisingly, he found himself smiling at the irony of his own emotions. For the first time in his life, he was actually happy to see Harry Potter.

"I thought your kind only came in groups of three," he said, motioning to Potter, giving him a minor look of distaste. He was pleased to see him, but that didn't mean he needed to be completely friendly.

Fred spoke before Potter could respond, "Well, remember that I've already hit you, and I happen to like you, mate. If Ron got the whole story, he'd likely tear you to bloody bits."

"Good point."

"The whole story?" Harry Potter asked, looking quite suspicious.

"It doesn't matter," Fred said, giving Potter a look that said that he didn't want the topic to continue. "Malfoy has volunteered to help us."

The look Potter gave him only made him bristle, however. As much as he needed his old school rival, the animosity still had hold of him.

"Down, Malfoy," Fred said rather cheekily.

"Around here, you should refer to me by 'Hanson' or 'Derek' if you are feeling generous."

"Right," Fred said, closing the door behind them. "You're still sure that there is a loophole in the contract?"

Draco looked seriously at both of them. "There is. And I'm certain that we can get her out."

----

A/N - sorry for the lack of D/G this chapter. I promise that it will return next, and I guarantee that the chap will have you squeeing madly. Sorry if there's any poor grammar. I will likely update this chap when I get my beta comments back. :)


	20. Chapter 20 Into the Fire

Ginny pulled on her cloak to ward off the January cold and touched her cheek tenderly. The bruising had faded over the past week, but the memory of how she'd received the mark hadn't diminished enough for her liking.

She gave a deep sigh, allowing her emotions to take hold for a brief period. It wasn't easy to deal with the intense range of feelings that seemed to pull at her constantly. In fact, it was at times like this, during her daily trip to enjoy some solitude in the carriage house, that she almost felt overwhelmed by the emotions that she normally kept locked away.

Continuing her walk, she placed a hand over her stomach and thought of the son that she carried. The thought caused her to smile, albeit sadly. With Draco gone, the growing attachment she was feeling for her baby gave her the focus and the brief moments of happiness that helped her continue each day with her sanity intact.

The past three months of living in the manor with Lucius, Bella and Rodolphus had been somewhat tolerable. In many ways, her relationship with her husband over the past few months had settled into something that she could call civil. She'd managed it by almost perfecting the art of slipping into her emotionless alter-ego whenever he was around, making her feel like she was living most of her life in a dream-like trance.

Her ruse worked most of the time, but as this last incident had proven, there were still things that were beyond her control.

She'd discovered that, away from outside influence, she'd been able to appease Lucius, convincing him of being a loyal wife, at least. In return, he'd changed toward her, seeming less demanding, and, at times, almost affectionate.

But his attention toward her came with a price. Ever since Lucius found out about the baby, convinced that it was his, he had become fiercely possessive of her in an odd, insane sort of way. His moods were wildly unpredictable and frequently changed from comforting to jealous with little provocation. She quickly found that his worst moods seemed to be driven by some sort of insecurity, and, in particular, any mention of Draco by anyone in earshot. To worsen matters, Lucius's peers seemed to particularly enjoy provoking him. Apparently, it was quite the game among Slytherins to capitalize upon any weakness that they saw in each other, and Lucius, who showed almost no weakness in any other way, had given them a rare opportunity.

This latest incident had been sparked by Augustus Rookwood, who had delighted in cornering her when she became separated from Lucius at the last holiday party. Over the past few months, she'd come to realize that Rookwood's actions had nothing to do with him being particularly attracted to her, in fact, it was quite the opposite. She understood that he simply enjoyed making her uncomfortable, but recently he'd also discovered that his leering glances at her had made Lucius furious. No amount of pleading could convince her husband that she hadn't initiated any contact with Rookwood, and when they'd arrived home, he once again released his anger with physical violence. Fortunately, he seemed to restrain himself on account of the baby she carried, but that small reprieve brought little comfort to her.

She'd long ago learned to accept his temper, but what had become even more disturbing was how he had taken to balancing his abuse with odd moments of tenderness.

She tried not to think about how he had started inviting her to remain with him to sleep each night, adding a disturbing feeling of intimacy to the relationship. Simply sleeping next to him felt decidedly wrong in some way. But what disturbed her most about the act was that he would frequently reach for her in the night, always calling the name "Cissy."

Overall, it had become quite a chore to maintain her facade, but she'd grown accustomed to accepting her actions as the only way to survive, for both herself and her child. She once again thought of the baby, and felt torn between her happiness at having a child, and fear about how she would protect him from becoming the Death Eater that Lucius wanted him to be.

Consumed by her thoughts about her baby's future, she decided that she was quite certain that madness would eventually overtake her, and wondered how long it would take her before she would join Bella and Lucius in some form of insanity.

The best she could do to postpone such a fate was to grant herself a few hours of solitude in the one place on the grounds that seemed to offer her some measure of peace and comfort. So, each day, she trudged down the path toward the carriage house.

The cold January air felt good on her recently healed skin while she wandered down to her haven, hoping to set her tightly reigned emotions free for a few hours. She entered the cozy structure just like she did nearly every other day, carrying a book and getting ready to settle herself on one of the chairs in the tack room.

Aside from her garden, now buried in the winter snow, there were few places at Malfoy Manor that held happy memories for her, and this was the one location that seemed to bring her any relief from the stress of her confinement. The smell of the leather and fresh hay in the room always comforted her, and that was a feeling which she desperately craved. Fortunately, with the exception of little Teddy, none of her house mates seemed to show any interest in disturbing her while she was there.

So, when someone moved out from behind a corner and grabbed her around the waist, she was completely unprepared. The shriek that started to emerge from her lips never got a chance to leave, however, as another figure came out of the shadows and a damp, strange-smelling cloth was placed over her mouth. She struggled violently for several long seconds, trying with moderate success to kick and punch at the figure that held her from behind.

She was satisfied when she heard her attacker grunt in pain when she stomped on the arch of his foot, but her triumph was short-lived. She drew in a breath and noticed a strange smell coming from the cloth that her attacker used to cover her nose and mouth, causing her to feel dizzy and weak. She became overwhelmed with a feeling of panic and fear as she realized that the smell was some sort of potion.

Then, everything went dark.

- - - - -

Harry Potter muttered a curse as he and Fred Weasley slowly lowered Ginny's unconsciousness form gently to the floor.

The men stared at her for a long moment, both looking more than a bit guilty. Harry was the first to break the silence. "I was hoping we wouldn't have to do that. Somehow knocking her out just seemed like a horrible way to say hello after four years."

Draco walked over the limp form, carefully checking her breathing to verify that she seemed all right before responding, "There was no other way, Potter. She likely would have started arguing and that would have jeopardized everything."

"But it feels more like a kidnapping than a rescue."

Draco stared back at the dark haired man in irritation before responding. "It should. I can't risk the magic of the contract interfering if she thinks of it as an escape. It's very specific. She's allowed out for brief periods under escort."

"Are you sure we count as an escort?"

It was an old argument, one that they'd covered several times over the last few weeks. Draco found himself losing patience. "We already covered this, Potter. Stop being thick. An escort is defined as a family member or designated friend. That's me."

"That's providing that your father hasn't officially disowned you yet," said Fred, in a tone that suggested a joke, but still held a bit of skepticism.

"Don't push it, and get to work. I have no idea how much time we'll have before that Muggle potion we used wears off," Draco replied, walking near the door and giving a nervous glance in the direction of the main house.

Fred dropped to the ground next to his sister, looking apologetic and decidedly uncomfortable as he reached to begin unbuttoning her dress. Draco moved to help him, his fingers loosening the fastenings quickly, despite the fact that his fingers were shaking. "No time for modesty, man. She's got knickers on, we just need the dress," he said removing the expensive garment from the girl's small frame.

The blond man paused and allowed himself a moment to stare at her as her brother moved to her feet to remove her shoes and stockings. For the first time in months, Draco got a glimpse of her skin, noticing the visible bump in her belly. It urged him to continue his work more quickly, removing his own cloak and then helping Fred to bundle her body into it.

Finishing the task, Draco grabbed her wand and the garment then turned to look for Potter, who had entered the room dragging along a rather large, heavy package, covered in a white shroud.

He turned to his former adversary and barked his command. "Leave that and get her out of here. I'll meet you both after it's done."

"Where will you put the...uhhh..." Fred asked.

"I'll move it to look like she was trying to get out and was overcome by smoke," he replied, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic amount of urgency. "Go!"

Fred picked up his sister, hoisting her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, and Harry threw his invisibility cloak over the three of them, leaving Draco to execute the plan.

As soon as the three exited the building, Draco felt a sudden wave of nervousness. No longer having the others with him, he was suddenly reminded about Gryffindor bravery and foolishness. Calming his thoughts, he reminded himself that his plan involved cunning and planning, and he set himself to work.

Casting those thoughts aside, he took a quick look around. Two horses remained inside in their usual places, so he assumed the other was likely outside grazing for the day. He immediately began to formulate the best way to complete his task, but time was short. He couldn't risk anyone coming out to check on Ginny before the proper time.

He decided that freeing the horses before he started his task would possibly attract attention and appear suspicious. Tossing the dress aside, he began unwrapping the package that the three had brought with them on this mission. As he unveiled the contents, he tried not to look too closely. It wasn't his first time seeing the dead woman contained in the wrappings, but that didn't quell his revulsion.

He had to give Granger some credit for doing her task of preparing the body well. The woman contained in the shroud was a similar body type and skin coloring as Ginny, but her hair had needed to be colored to the same vibrant red. Granger had done a good job of making it a close match. Unfortunately, the woman's facial features had not been very close to Ginny's, so Granger had been forced to damage her face beyond recognition.

He couldn't help but thing that the Mudblood had accomplished her grisly task more than adequately. Draco found himself repressing the urge to gag at the sight as he dressed the body carefully in Ginny's clothing. He silently thanked the woman for dying conveniently, knowing that they would never have been able to carry out the plan if it hadn't been for her loss.

The worst part of his task complete, he moved to the tack room and lit a Muggle match, setting the nearest flammable thing on fire. He verified that the flames began to spread before he hurried out of the room. A quick glance back showed him that the flames spread quickly, dry blankets and wood quickly turning the once comfortable little room into an inferno.

Fearing that he'd have less time than he'd planned, he raced to the first stall in his path. Twinkle was already prancing about nervously as the crackling sight and sound of fire alerted the animal's basic instincts. Pulling the small pony from the area, he held down his own rising sense of panic. Slapping it hard on its hind quarters, he sent the beloved beast outside and away from the danger.

Racing back inside to the next stall, he hauled Hans out almost forcefully, the gathering smoke making the horse shy back in fear. Flames had rapidly spread from the tack room to nearby hay and straw and Draco could feel the heat as he bullied the horse along, finally ripping off his shirt to cover the eyes of the horse in order to get it to the door. He found himself cursing as the fool beast tried to turn back in even after he'd brought it to the door, as flames now were licking the ceiling above him. Yelling and smacking the horse, he finally got it into the paddock area and ran back inside one last time.

His plan was to ensure that the fire reached the body of the unknown woman before anyone arrived to battle the fire. He was fully prepared to divert or damage any intruder who might discover the secret that the body on the floor was long dead. After the fire spread sufficiently to hide the woman's true identity, he planned to leave out of one of the building's rear windows, undetected.

As he analyzed the last details of his plan, he heard a sound coming from the back of the barn. It only took him a split second to recognize that it was a horse's scream of fear, and the sound cut through his soul. Looking back, he saw Barnabas, his faithful favorite, screaming and thrashing in the farthest stall.

Draco stared at the horse for a long moment in total disbelief, looking between the stall containing the horse, and the place that Barnabas was supposed to be occupying, noting that it was clearly empty. He swore and ran toward the horse, cursing the elves who'd put him away improperly. Their fear of handling the animal likely had left them to move him to a location that was easier for them, since Draco was no longer around to tend to him.

He flung open the door and moved inside, hoping to calm the animal before the large horse's erratic movements crushed him. Barnabas' eyes were wide with fear, showing a ring of white around the normally dark iris.

Draco spoke in calming tones despite his personal fear for both of them. He moved around the horse, hoping to either get hold of him or persuade him to move out of the stable. Unfortunately, neither effort was successful, as Barnabas refused to leave despite the fact that the door right in front of him was open. Still holding his shirt, Draco lunged and managed to grasp the halter of the panicked animal. He tried to cover the horse's eyes, but Barnabas jerked away from Draco's hold, the strength of the huge animal pulling him off his feet.

He was running out of time. The elves, at the very least, would be here shortly, and the smoke was getting thick. Draco needed to get out before he was seen or it would ruin the entire plan. It had to appear that Ginny had been alone and that she died while trying to rescue the animals. Any indication otherwise would cause them to suspect either foul play or a rescue attempt.

His desperation wasn't helping him try to control the horse, and Barnabas struck out, knocking him over and leaving a deep gash on his left arm. He didn't notice the pain as he got back up and tried to speak softly in an attempt to calm the terrified animal. It wasn't working. Barnabas' high spirit and strength were working against them.

It would have been so easy to raise his wand and cast a charm to shield them, or a blast of water to keep the way clear for just a few minutes longer but that also was against the plan. It had to appear that Ginny didn't have her wand with her, thereby preventing her from saving herself or stopping the disaster. He could leave no trace of magic in the area.

The fire was now out of control, engulfing the doorway almost completely. The area near the tack room had already started to collapse from the intense heat. The doorway was almost closed off. He gave one last attempt, pleading with his favorite mount to trust him just once more.

Then, above the roar of the flames, he heard the voices. They were coming, and he was out of time. Draco coughed, the smoke was filling his lungs. If he didn't get out soon, he'd be dead as well. A crash signified that one of the beams near the doorway had collapsed. With an overwhelming sense of dread, Draco realized that Barnabas' time had run out. He turned to look toward the door, seeing the body he'd left on the floor about to be devoured in flames. His work was done and it was time to go.

Running to the next stall, he hauled his body up to the open window, taking a quick peek outside to verify that nobody would see his escape. Then he turned back to Barnabas one last time, his last vision of his longtime companion clouded by a combination of smoke and unexpected tears.

"I'm sorry, old friend," he said, his voice hoarse with smoke and cracking with sorrow, as he dove out to safety.

- ~ - ~ -

He Apparated back to Ottery St. Catchpole feeling filthy, tired and emotionally torn, barely aware of the winter cold. In a way, Barnabas' death had solidified the scenario, but it didn't make him feel any better that his beloved horse had to die in such a horrible manner and, worse, by his own hand.

There was still no guarantee that they'd truly succeeded.

He was still shirtless, the remnants of the garment now wrapped around the gash on his arm. He hadn't taken the time to heal it, as he had other work to do, such as discreetly leaving Ginny's wand on the patio table to prove that she'd been defenseless in the stable. Then, he had to crawl through the gardens to avoid being seen while everyone's attention was directed toward the fire. By the time he'd reached the woods to Apparate, he was far beyond caring about his state of dress, the cold or anything else.

Running toward his destination, he could only pray that the others were already there. It seemed to take him forever to cover the few blocks to the small shop where he now lived, grateful that the street was relatively quiet so that nobody noticed his unusual state of dress. He raced around back and took the steps to the attic two at a time, only stopping to catch his breath as he reached the apartment's door.

Taking a deep, fearful breath, he took out his wand and lowered the wards that he knew were there. He opened the door slowly, despite his fervent wish to throw it open and race inside. The last thing he wanted was to startle them, if they were there, and get himself hexed.

To his immense relief, he was greeted by Fred and Potter, wands raised and ready to defend themselves.

Before he said a word, he verified that there was a third person with them, and that she was lying asleep on the bed.

"Is she all right?" were his first words. The state of the two men was inconsequential at the moment.

They both nodded, and Fred spoke first. "She's still asleep. I was waiting to give her the potion once we were all here. How did the rest go?"

"Almost perfectly to plan. The important parts, at least," he replied sadly, the others failing to notice the catch in his voice.

He walked over to the bed, sitting beside the sleeping girl. She was still wrapped in his cloak and he moved to brush the hair back on her forehead. Fred handed her the potion that would help her wake up and nullify any effects of the Muggle potion that they'd used in the stable.

"Ginny," he said softly, lifting the vial to her lips. "Ginny, girl, time to wake up." She managed to swallow a sip, and began to stir.

Blinking sleep from her eyes, she groggily focused her gaze on the blond, shirtless man in front of her.

"Wha... where am I? D..." she stopped, as if afraid to say more. He wasn't surprised. She was a smart girl and she wasn't going to say anything that might be incriminating, at least until she was sure it wasn't a trap.

"It's alright, Ginny. It's me. You're safe. Look who's here to see you," he said, smiling as he moved aside to let her get a view of Fred, who was standing directly behind him.

Her eyes opened wide with shock, "Fred?"

"You always were the only one who could tell us apart," her brother said, smiling. "It's good to know you haven't lost your touch."

She gave a small squeal of joy and sat up on the bed reaching out her arms to hug her brother. The movement jostled the cloak that had been covering her and she quickly pulled it back around herself. She looked at her brother in confusion. "Where are my clothes?"

"It was part of the plan. Sorry Ginny," Harry replied, moving forward to interrupt.

Her face brightened with unrestrained joy as she recognized him. "Harry!" Pulling the cloak around herself she reached out, completing the hug to her brother and reaching out to encompass Harry also. "I should have known!"

Ginny didn't see Draco's expression fall when she focused all her attention on the other two men in the room, seeming to forget about him entirely.

Finally releasing Harry from the hug, she looked into the hero's eyes. "I knew you'd come back. I knew you'd win eventually."

"I haven't won yet, and I missed you too," he said smiling, holding her warmly.

Her grin widened and she replied, "But you will. I know you will."

Still holding onto Harry's arm, Ginny looked away from him and around the room, taking in her surroundings for the first time since she woke. She'd been so focused on her companions that she'd hardly noticed that she was in an unfamiliar place. She shook her head as if to clear it, then looked alarmed as she looked at each of the three men in turn. Finally, her gaze settled on Draco, a look of panic on her face.

"Draco? Where are we?"

All three fell silent, with identical, slightly uncomfortable expressions on their faces. Draco looked at her evenly. "We're at my place, love. You're safe here, for now."

"I was attacked..."

Harry interrupted, looking guilty and apologetic. "I'm sorry about that Ginny. We couldn't risk the magic of the contract interfering with you thinking you were escaping. It was the only way to make it work."

Her mind took in the answers and tried to process them. She looked about the room again and understood clearly that she was no longer at the manor, and a deep feeling of panic started to overcome her as she thought about what Lucius would do to the lot of them once he discovered she was gone. She was certain they'd meant well, but she felt they didn't comprehend the danger that they all were in.

She reached forward and grabbed Draco's hand, her voice shaking with fear. "You have to take me back. He'll know. He'll come looking!"

"He won't come looking, Ginny," Harry interrupted. "He thinks you're dead."

"What?" She looked back and forth among the three, ready to bolt from the room.

Fred placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, trying to explain in a calm voice. "Draco's idea, Ginny. It was brilliant."

She looked at Draco, and he looked down almost shyly, with a pleased smile coming to his face at the compliment. He was dirty, shirtless and looked oddly out of place. It was so unlike him.

"What did you do?"

Draco looked at her, but seemed at an unusual loss for words as he smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Hermione was able to find a body in a Muggle morgue. We spent the last month trying to find one that might look like you. A week ago, she found a pregnant woman who was close to your size. We stole the body and put a stasis charm on it while we finished planning the rest."

Ginny looked mildly horrified at the morbid idea. "A body? You stole a Muggle body?"

Harry continued the explanation. "Draco knew you spent time in the carriage house, so we planned to set fire to the place and leave the body. Hopefully, it will be burned badly enough that no one will question that it was you."

She dropped back on the bed, looking shocked as she processed the information. "But, the contract... I'm not allowed to leave the grounds..."

"Except for short durations, under escort. In this case, me," Draco explained. "I looked over the contract and saw that he left it open so that you could leave for parties and socials, perhaps shopping, without him explicitly releasing you."

She relaxed slightly, no longer appearing as if she was about to flee, but still looking far from convinced that being away from the manor was a good idea. Draco didn't fail to notice Harry squeezing her hand in reassurance at his words.

She looked among her companions, worry still etched on her face. "But, how long would that be? A few hours, or days?"

Still staring at Ginny's hand holding onto his former rival's, Draco responded in an almost strained voice. "Not sure, so the next few days are going to be a little rough while we wait. But, the contract clearly states that, should anything happen to you, your body is to be returned to your family for burial. If he believes you are dead, he'll release your body to your family."

She gasped. "It was one of the few things I asked for that he didn't seem to mind compromising on." She looked about at the three men in the room, each of which meant so much to her in very different ways. They'd come together for her, and she found herself slightly in awe. She looked at all of them, allowing the realization to sink in slowly.

"You mean it. If this works, I might really be free of him."

They all nodded in unison, causing her to smile at the rather unlikely picture in front of her.

"It's not over yet, Ginny," Draco cut in, his voice and expression turning deadly serious. "We're hoping that's how it will look. We need to wait a day or so, to see if they believe it. We'll know when he signs the release papers and your family goes to retrieve the body."

Her smile dropped, but she nodded. "I understand."

An awkward silence for a moment before Ginny spoke again. "When can I see Mum?" she said, abruptly, looking at Fred.

Again, the three men in the room all looked uncomfortable with the question. Fred looked uncharacteristically solemn when he answered, "Not for a couple of days, sis. We have to let everyone react as if this is real, right through the funeral, at the very least. Maybe longer. This might be the hardest part of making this plan work."

She couldn't help herself from having a slight whining tone to her voice, but she pressed the issue. "But Fred, this is Mum and Dad we are talking about."

"We can't tell anyone. I haven't even told George."

"Wow, you're serious," she said, looking slightly amazed. It was impossible for Fred not to share everything with his twin. If he was going so far as to not even tell George, then she knew that they were being extremely cautious.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. There's no other way right now," Harry explained, sitting on the bed beside her again. Unfortunately, this is a Muggle place, so you'll have to put up with it for a few days. But I promise, as soon as we think it's safe, we'll move you back home."

His words triggered an old memory from what seemed like a lifetime ago, of how she thought it would be so easy to run away and hide among Muggles and escape the horrible fate she'd set for herself. Now, she would have a chance to run away, although she wasn't sure yet where. The idea wasn't so very difficult to grasp. Anything seemed easier than spending another minute in the manor and she was more than willing to try.

"Will I be staying here? Where is here?"

"We're in a Muggle village not far from The Burrow," Harry told her. "Draco's been living here since he left, or so he says," Harry said, he and Draco sharing an annoyed glance between them. They were apparently allies but that obviously didn't mean that they were willing to like each other. "You don't have to stay here but we thought you might want to be near your parents for now. It will only be a few days and then we can find something more permanent."

She took a moment to process Harry's words. "Draco lives here?" She looked over at Draco, taking in his ragged appearance, and wondering why he was in such a state. She turned to look at him and he gave an odd smile, looking almost abashed. The tiny room was hardly a place she'd ever imagined he'd live, but something about the little room was comforting to her.

"I want to stay here," she said simply. Harry's face fell and it hurt her to see it. She turned to Draco, who was still standing off to the side, looking uncomfortable.

"Draco, are you all right?"

"Let me find you something to wear," he responded, ignoring her question.

He dug out sweatpants and a t-shirt, handing them to Ginny, but still not saying anything. She remained confused but hurried into the bath to change.

The clothing was big but comfortable and baggy enough to hide her tummy. The three men were all staring at her as she emerged, each with various expressions of concern. She had been unprepared to be here and she needed some time alone to think.

"Harry, you should head back now and let Hermione know that, so far, things are going according to plan. I'd feel better if you were there when my parents get the news," Fred said.

Harry nodded, and reached for his cloak, looking at the others. "You shouldn't be alone, just in case anything goes wrong," Harry added. "Fred is going to stay with you tonight."

"Draco will be here, won't he?" she asked looking surprised.

"I'll be here if you want me. If you prefer to stay with Hermione, or anyone else, that's your choice," he said, looking annoyed, as he pulled on a fresh shirt. For the first time, she noticed the wrapping on his left arm, clearly stained with blood.

She hurried over to him, examining the wound carefully. "Draco, this needs to be cleaned."

He shook his head, wrapping his arms around her to prevent her from fussing over the injury. "It's fine. I'll take care of it in a bit."

She frowned, looking at him sternly. He responded by giving her a kiss on the nose.

"Hey, none of that!" Fred interrupted. "There are some things that brothers really don't want to witness."

Draco smiled, looking over at Fred, and taking in Harry's look of shocked annoyance with a smug smile. "As long as you don't hit me again. I suppose that's more than enough incentive to behave."

She turned to her brother. "You hit him?"

"Not recently. He deserved it," Fred responded simply.

"Ughh... boys," she sighed, feeling suddenly warmed with humor over Fred's casual remark.

She glanced over at Harry, who looked miserable. She felt guilty, but she'd come to terms with her feelings for him some time ago. He'd been gone for four years. She now had a baby to worry about and she was in love with the father of her child. She'd moved on.

"If it's alright with all of you, I think I'd like to get some rest," she said, hoping to avoid any further uncomfortable conversation for a bit. She wasn't tired, but she did realize that she was emotionally spent. She'd been unprepared for this and there was far too much to process.

The men all nodded. The next moments were almost amusing as she saw the three become overly accommodating. Draco pulled back the covers on the bed as Fred helped her in. Each of the three took turns making sure she was tucked in comfortably and gave her a hug and kiss. Despite thinking that she wasn't tired, she soon found herself in a deep peaceful sleep, knowing that for the first time in months, she was truly safe.

Walking outside to allow Ginny some privacy, Harry left to return to the Burrow, and Fred followed shortly after, giving Draco a concerned look.

"I'm trusting you with her," he said, his tone giving a small amount of warning.

"I know, and thank you. We have a lot to talk about."

Fred merely nodded in response, turning to leave.

Draco remained outside on the stairs long after the others left, thinking about the day's events, and hoping that they had truly succeeded. Regardless of the outcome, his life was likely going to change drastically and, as a good Slytherin, he wanted to have plans for every possible contingency.

The sun finally set and the coolness of the night forced him to move indoors. Realizing that he was still covered in smoke and soot, he quietly grabbed some fresh clothing and went to take a shower.

Clean, he looked over at the woman he loved, curled on her side in the bed. Suddenly, he realized how very exhausted he was. It had been a long, stressful day.

Moving slowly so as not to disturb her, he crawled into bed beside her and smiled at the memory of Fred sending Potter away, leaving Draco to have his time alone here with her. The twins weren't so bad after all, he thought.

A moment passed where he thought he might simply sleep on his side of the bed, leaving her alone, but he cast that idea aside quickly. They'd been apart for far too long. He moved close to her and she stirred.

"Don't worry, love. It's just me. Go back to sleep," he said softly.

She gave a small sound of agreement, as he moved his arm around her waist, his hand gently over her rounded tummy. His son was there. Both of them were with him now, safe, and there was no way that he was going to let them go.

- ~ - ~ -

She awoke in the middle of the night because of the bright moonlight pouring into the window near the bed. She'd had a long sleep and felt better than she had in a very long time.

It took a moment for her to remember where she was, but it was only a moment. Lying awake in the bed, she decided that if this was a dream, she was going to allow herself to enjoy it for however long it lasted.

She snuggled into the arms of her lover, enjoying the feeling of security and comfort when she was hit with a profound sense of deja-vu. She pulled out of his embrace quietly and took a quick look around the room.

She'd been here before.

It was small, a one room studio with a comfortable chair in the corner and a small kitchen area. The location of the lamp, the window, the door. It was exactly as she remembered it.

Perhaps she hadn't noticed earlier because it had been daylight and she'd been so overcome with seeing Harry and Fred again, along with processing her newfound freedom.

She quietly got out of the bed and padded around the small room, taking in details, trying to verify if she was imagining the similarity. Not that she'd been to many Muggle apartments but she was quite certain that not many of them would look quite so similar to this one.

Curiosity about the place got the best of her. She noticed some unopened mail and wondered if it might give her a clue. Moving over to the bright moonlight being cast in the window, she caught the name on every envelope: Derek Hanson.

It couldn't be.

A quiet, involuntary squeak escaped her as the memory assaulted her. She'd been quite drunk, but had sobered enough by the time she left to remember this room. Then, she looked at the man who had been sleeping next to her. A feeling of trepidation fell over her. She'd told him about her encounter. Had Draco found the man she'd met so many months ago? Could this possibly be the exact same room she'd spent the night in? Her hormones made controlling her emotions difficult enough, especially knowing that Lucius hadn't yet signed the papers releasing her body, but this new realization had put her emotions over the edge.

He stirred and took notice of her distress almost immediately. "Ginny, are you alright? The baby...?"

"Where are we?" she demanded.

He shook himself further awake, obviously concerned. "We told you before, when Fred and Potter were here. This is my place..."

She cut him off. "It is not, Draco!" She waved the incriminating mail at him. "Who is Derek Hanson? Do you know him? Is he coming back?"

"What?"

"Did you do something to him?"

She seemed frightened. He couldn't understand why the name would upset her and then, as the cobwebs cleared from his sleep-addled brain, he figured it out.

Getting out of the warm bed a bit reluctantly, he walked over to the window where she stood, taking the mail from her shaking hands.

"Ginny, relax, it's all right."

She was trembling. He hadn't wanted her to find out this way but he hadn't had the opportunity to address the subject earlier. Now she was upset and that wouldn't be healthy for her or the baby. Deep down, he knew it was time to explain.

"Ginny, Derek Hanson is me. It's the name I've been using while I live among the Muggles."

She stared up at him, looking as if she was trying to comprehend, but failing miserably. "Oh."

"I couldn't very well use my own name if I was hoping to hide," he explained.

She nodded, but it didn't stop her from shaking.

"You remember being here before, don't you," he stated.

She nodded again, looking up to meet his gaze. "You know?" she asked shakily. "I... I mean, how could you know I was here before?"

"I didn't want to tell you this way, Ginny," he said calmly, not wanting to upset her further. He managed to get her to sit down on the edge of the bed, and he was disturbed to see her looking at him fearfully.

He turned on the light switch and walked over to the dresser, opening the top drawer. Pulling out a wad of papers, he flipped through until he found what he wanted. He handed her a Muggle photograph.

She looked down at the picture, confused.

"It's probably easier if I showed you. Look at it more closely," he said.

The image showed four men, all smartly dressed and smiling proudly with a perfect-looking gray-colored horse, the horse sporting a blue ribbon on its bridle.

She looked at the faces, although none seemed familiar. There was an older man holding a trophy, another leaning against the fence, the third seated on the horse dressed in impeccable riding attire, and then her gaze fell upon the fourth. His light brown hair fell carelessly over his forehead, and his eyes were partly hidden by square-framed glasses. She swallowed nervously.

Draco took in her reaction, "Does he look familiar?" She nodded but said nothing.

Taking the picture, he turned it over. "Read the back."

She took in the neat handwriting.

_Derek,_

_Congratulations on our first win together. Here's to many more! _

_Best,_

_Jack_

"Derek..." she stammered.

"...is the man you met in the Black Bull Tavern last year," he finished.

She looked up, and looked back down at the photograph. If Draco wore glasses and darkened his hair...

She looked back up at him. "It was you." Her words were whispered so softly that she could barely be heard.

He nodded and gave her a small smile as she stood back up, still staring unbelievingly at the picture. He was about to say more but was interrupted by her hand making hard contact with his face, the loud sound of the slap echoed through the room.

She hit so hard that his head snapped to the side and he saw stars for an instant.

Stunned, he blinked twice to clear his vision and give him a moment to attempt to comprehend what had just happened. "What was that for?"

"Why didn't you tell me!" she demanded. "All those months and you never thought to say anything?"

"Would it have mattered?"

"Yes!"

He took her hands, partly to get her attention and partly because he didn't want to be smacked again. There was definitely something about Weasleys hitting him that was getting to be a tad annoying. "Ginny, you know my father wanted to know who the person was. It would have only made everything harder."

His words were true and, deep down, she knew it, but she wasn't quite ready to let go of her anger. "But you knew who I was that night! You tricked me!"

"I knew. But I didn't know why you were there and I didn't want to lose the anonymity I had here. I couldn't afford to let word get back about where I was trying to hide."

"But still..."

"Hey, you weren't fighting me, as I recall," he said defensively.

No, she definitely remembered he had given her more than one chance to back away. "I'm sorry," she finally said.

"I'm sorry for not saying anything. When I saw you there, at the manor for the first time, I was so angry with you. I didn't understand why you would choose to be with him instead of just leaving. Then later, it didn't seem to matter."

She didn't say anything, but she nodded, seeming to have finally understood.

He moved forward to wrap his arms around her waist. "I wanted to tell you so many times. I thought about that night so many times that it nearly drove me insane. If I'd had any idea what you were planning..."

"Don't tell me you would have tried to stop me," she said.

"Yes, I would have tried to stop you. Even then. Even though I'd just met you, basically."

"That was the reason I didn't tell anyone," she explained softly.

He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. He understood now, after having spent months getting to know her, that she had reasons, but that argument was long past.

"C'mon, let's go back to bed," he said, tugging gently on her hands. "We can talk in the morning."`

The feel of her hands in his felt good and warmth of the bed was a welcome idea. As she thought about being back in the warm bed with him, the last of her anger dissolved. He was right for not telling her before. He had his reasons, just as she had her own reasons for keeping her plans to herself at the time.

He wrapped his arms around her and she snuggled close in his embrace. For the first time in almost a year, she felt content.

- - - -

A/N – Thanks to violetjersey and jesscat for your preview work on the plot, and Special thanks to my incredible beta, Aerleigh. You are the best, hon!


	21. Chapter 21 Out of the Ashes

- - - -

Chapter 21

- - - -

Curled back into the warmth of the covers, Ginny found herself feeling slightly uncomfortable at the idea of simply going to sleep again next to Draco, even though, or perhaps simply because the act was so innocent. Part of her was deliriously happy to be with her lover again, but their conversation had covered their past, and part of her was terrified that his feelings might have changed in the months they'd been apart.

Trying to ignore the feelings of uncertainty that suddenly welled up inside of her, she tried to wrap her mind around the fact that Draco was, indeed, the man she'd met in the Muggle pub the previous winter. She once again looked about the room and tried her best to recount the details of that first night weighing her sketchy memories against the mysteries that had surrounded Draco over the past year.

Her heart clenched at the thought of him being so near. She'd missed him terribly, but she suddenly found herself unsure of how to express herself.

She curled up on her side, facing away from him and was pleasantly surprised when he curled up behind her, pulling her close. She sighed at the contact and reveled in the feeling for a long moment, trying to quell what she was certain were imaginary and hormone-induced fears.

Making up her mind to act more like a proper Gryffindor, she turned to him, finally giving into her longing to give him a tentative kiss. It was a relatively innocent gesture, but she was grateful that he returned it. His lips were soft, gentle and reassuring and she relaxed a bit. Before they'd gotten into the bed, he'd mentioned returning to sleep, so, unsure of what to do next, she once again turned on her side, shuffling to get comfortable with her rounded tummy in the way.

Unfortunately, she found it impossible to attempt to go back to sleep because her body was practically humming due to her close proximity to him. This was new to both of them, a night were they could simply sleep in the comfort of each other's arms and she was keenly aware that the both of them were now wide awake as a result of their recent discussion. More importantly, she was intensely conscious of Draco's arm wrapped around her.

He began to lay light kisses on her neck. "I never should have let you leave that night," he said huskily.

It was quite clear to her that he was referring to their first night together, the one that she'd spent in that same room and bed, but had no idea that her lover had been Draco. She stiffened slightly at the remark, for the words brought back uncomfortable memories for her, but he wrapped his arms more tightly around her and placed another kiss on her shoulder.

She responded tentatively. "My family might have agreed with you, despite what would have happened to my brothers."

He gently rested his chin on her shoulder before continuing to speak. "I was hoping that we would wake up the next morning and I would be able to talk with you, maybe even help you, although at the time, I had no idea of what you'd gotten yourself into."

She smiled, the idea warming her heart and she relaxed into his embrace. "It was a nice thought. I had to say that I was tempted to stay, especially after you talked about helping me find work here."

She could feel him smile, "You were?"

"I was. You were so uncharacteristically...sweet," she said, turning to lie on her back so she could see him in the moonlight, the topic of conversation surprisingly calming her.

He was grinning smugly. "I was?"

"Yes. It's no wonder that I had no idea that it was you," she said, giving him a teasing smile.

He rolled on top of her, adjusting his weight on his elbows to avoid her tummy. "The problem was that you left too soon," he said. "Little did you realize that I was far from done with you."

"You were asleep."

"And you were intoxicated."

The words brought back many painful memories about what had brought her to him that night. Looking back, it felt like it had happened a lifetime ago and she felt she needed to explain.

"I was frightened out of my mind. I only wanted to make sure he couldn't use the binding on me." She looked shyly away from his gaze, thinking of how uncharacteristically wanton she must have appeared to be that night. "Besides, I only remember pieces."

Her discomfort seemed to have no effect on him. "And I spent every weekend here since then doing nothing but remember every last detail."

His admission left her stunned speechless for a long moment as she processed his words. Looking for a way to divert the conversation, she asked, "How long have you been living here?"

"I've been here almost every day since Father banished me from the Manor. But, before that, almost every weekend for the past two years."

She looked at him in amazement. This was where he'd been coming every weekend, while his father thought he was only off drinking with his friends, or girlfriends. In all the time she'd lived at the manor, she'd never once suspected Draco Malfoy, who'd been known to be an insufferable, pureblood elitist for his entire life, of living among Muggles during his spare time. She suddenly realized that it was the perfect hiding place for him.

"It was shortly after my mother was killed" he continued after seeing the look of shock on her face. "She wanted me to be safe and I wanted that too. I figured the best way was to find a place to hide and wait in case things became dangerous again. After a while, I made a few friends and found that I rather liked it here."

She laughed a bit "Draco Malfoy, living among Muggles?"

He gave a soft snort of laughter in agreement. "Hard to believe, isn't it? But, yes. It's not so bad, really."

She smiled and reached up to gently run her fingers through his hair, as she studied his face in the dim light.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I was just thinking how interesting you turned out to be, and I was wondering what made you talk to me when you saw me in the pub."

His eyes drifted over her features for a long moment before he answered. "Well, besides the fact that my mates were all quite taken with you and practically forced me to talk to you..."

She laughed again, feeling safe and comfortable. It was a welcome feeling, and she had missed it terribly during the past few months. Their conversation was wonderfully distracting from her own dire situation. "You really have Muggle friends?"

"Yes, of course. They've been relentless trying to set me up with girls. Seem to think that if I had a girlfriend I'd be less cranky."

"Well, obviously, they didn't know you when you were younger."

He looked at her in mock hurt. "You wound me, Weasley."

She chuckled softly, but then she paused after his words sunk in. She looked up rather uncertainly, looking slightly away from his eyes. "So...do you have many girlfriends here?"

He shook his head slowly, giving her a smile in return, as he played with a strand of her hair. "Just one girl that I picked up in a pub last year. She rather stuck in my head and I had to kidnap her to get her to come back."

She lifted her head up to kiss him lightly on the lips. When she dropped her head back down, she felt a bit of sadness come over her. "I'm sorry to say that I can't say the same about remembering you that night. What I remember, I've tried not to think about very much. I thought it was for the best if I didn't."

"I've thought of you ever since," he returned as leaned in to give her a light kiss, his smile turning slightly mischievous. "And, if you like, I'll be happy to refresh your memory."

She closed her eyes, feeling herself smiling even as he kissed her, and she tried to compare the Draco she knew to the stranger she'd encountered so long ago. If she had bothered to look, she was certain she would have seen the similarities, but, back then, she'd been unwilling to accept them because the idea of finding Draco Malfoy among Muggles had been completely unthinkable.

As she thought back to their first encounter, she began to vividly recall the feeling of desperation she'd had, and she once again felt a similar sense of urgency, but not quite for the same reasons. She was safe for the moment, but there were no guarantees that Lucius wouldn't find her and reclaim her in the morning. If that was going to happen, she desperately wanted to remember this night.

He kissed her again, in a deliciously long and slow manner and she immediately began allowing her hands to wander over his torso and under the hem of his shirt. He pulled away from the kiss to tug the item off and she took a long moment to admire his muscular form. He truly was a work of art, and she wanted to remember every bit of him.

He paused, waiting for her to finish her visual exploration. When she finally looked back at his silvery eyes, he leaned in to kiss her, but she placed a hand on his chest. He stopped, confused.

She smiled, and reached up to caress his face. "You came back for me."

He nodded, still looking uncertain. "Of course."

A feeling of overwhelming calm came over her as soon as she realized why that meant so much to her. Not only had he returned, but he'd allied himself with Harry and her brother to do so. She felt her eyes watering at the thought, and she needed to let him know that it was worth it.

Failing to find any suitable words that she could use to describe her emotions, she silently reached up and began to play with his hair, then tugged him down toward her so she could kiss him again.

He seemed to match her feelings, and the kiss was slow and languid, as her hands wandered over his bare chest, feeling every contour of him. He was well-toned, just as she remembered, when she'd first made love to him, so very long ago. She traced her fingers along the waistband of his pajama pants, teasingly, and he immediately moved his kisses away from her mouth, along her jaw and down her neck, his tongue tracing the contours of her as he moved down to her collarbone, tugging the material of her shirt aside to nibble lightly at the juncture of her neck.

She giggled, tugging once again at his pants, her hand finally slipping inside as she reached around to cup his bum, pulling him closer. He responded by reaching underneath her shirt and gently maneuvering the material upward as his hands lightly caressed their way up her back.

It was nearly identical to their first encounter, except their actions up to this point had been done while they were still standing. Memories of her first night with him came forward, and for the first time in many months, she made no effort to repress them. Knowing that he truly was intent on recreating that night for her, she realized that she would now always remember that night with feelings of joy instead of guilt. It had been a night that she truly had cherished.

She suddenly came to the conclusion that she'd fallen in love with him that very first night, not even knowing who he was.

As he removed her shirt and began placing tender kisses on her tummy, she was jolted from her happy thoughts and stopped him.

"What?" he said, looking up, worried.

"I'm fat," she replied, trying to move her hands to hide his gaze from the area.

He stopped her, grabbing her hands and giving each one a kiss, then moving to kiss her soundly on the mouth. "You are not fat and I wouldn't care anyway. Now relax. I've been without you for far too long and I intend for you to enjoy this."

She leaned back timidly to allow him to continue his job of refreshing her memory. He moved his way slowly up her body, his work-roughened hands gently tracing up and down her arms, almost innocently at first, then he smiled when he placed a hand on her tummy, caressing the area lightly, almost reverently.

Eventually, his hands began tracing their way up along her sides, coming to rest along the sides of each breast. He cupped each one, running his thumbs lightly over the nipples until they pebbled up to points, and she gave an involuntary, and rather erotic-sounding sigh. Yes, he was refreshing her memory, but she clearly recalled that during their first encounter, he hadn't been quite so... thorough. The small part of her mind that wasn't concentrating on the raw physical pleasure wondered if it was actually her fuzzy memory or if he was simply being particularly enthusiastic in his task of reminding her.

He nibbled and nuzzled at her breasts for a long time, mumbling something about them being a bit larger than he remembered, and she giggled, chastising him for not knowing that pregnancy was known to cause such an effect. His lifted his head, looking at her with an almost innocent, open honesty.

"Really?" The pleased and surprised expression on his face only made her laugh harder.

It was moments like this that reaffirmed her feelings for him with an intensity that warmed her soul. It was the thought of such little slices of joy with him that had kept her sane over the past year. He'd been more than a lover. He'd been her friend, and more importantly, her anchor.

Her laughter faded, leaving her with an affectionate smile. "I love you," she said with every ounce of feeling that was flowing through her in that moment, surprising herself with the spontaneity of the admission.

He paused, clearly stunned, and she sucked in her breath, worried that her words might have ruined the moment. But the tension only lasted for a split-second, because immediately after he processed her words, the smile that brightened his face would have outshone the dawn. She felt a similar smile on her own lips, but only for a moment, because he leaned forward to kiss her with an intensity that she'd never imagined.

Wanting to return the attention, she shifted, tugging him until he moved up alongside her. She mimicked his previous actions, tracing her hands along his neck, shoulders and chest, and then moving lower, her fingers playing lightly along his stomach. She looked up at him, feeling almost shy despite the fact that she was far from being the innocent girl she was the first time she'd been with him. But she'd been away from him for nearly three months, and the idea of becoming reacquainted gave her a thrill that she hadn't expected.

Playing with the light hair on his stomach, she looked at his torso shamelessly, taking in every well-chiseled feature, and she felt the urge to allow her fingers to become more bold.

Without question, she wanted all of him.

Reaching her fingers under the waistband of his pajama bottoms, she tugged at the garment, and he quickly shifted to help her remove them. She smiled at his eagerness, continuing her visual perusal of his body.

He lay on his side, naked, and propped his head on one arm, smiling, and allowing her to pull away to unabashedly stare at him just as she'd done during their first night together. Then, she'd been awkward and timid because she'd been unfamiliar with being with a man. This time, the action of looking at him seemed far more intimate.

She drank in the sight of him eagerly, enjoying his slim build, the light dusting of hair on his stomach, and then moved her gaze lower, to see his arousal. She felt shy again, moving her inspection to his legs, well-muscled from hours of riding, then back up to his arms and hands. A memory tugged at her, and she took his free hand and examined it closely.

It was calloused and rough, just like she'd remembered from last winter. She loved his hands.

Placing a kiss on the roughened palm, she looked up into his eyes. "How did I not notice it was you, even after all the time we spent together?"

He traced the back of his fingers along her cheek. "Because you didn't want to see it."

He leaned forward, kissing her sweetly, then placed a hand on her shoulder, pressing her back onto the mattress. As she rolled back, he lay partially on top of her, running his fingers along her face, his expression showing intensity. She smiled, enjoying the feeling of his body pressing against hers.

"We seem to have a problem," he said.

She frowned. "What?"

"You have far too much clothing on."

The absurdity of his statement made her laugh, and he pulled away to tug the loose sweatpants from her lower body, leaving her naked. Mere seconds later, his soft lips once again moved along her cheek and neck, working his way along her collarbone, and she buried her hands in his hair, losing herself in complete bliss as he began to worship her body like never before.

As his mouth moved further down her torso, she realized that she had never felt more comfortable being bared before him, and she felt a sudden need to have him back in her arms. She tried to tug him upward, but he would have none of it, as he moved lower and began to nibble at her core, licking at her with enthusiasm. She moaned in ecstasy. Just as she did the first time they were together, she responded willingly eagerly to his touch. When she finally came, she somehow managed to have both hands in his hair, tugging at him unmercifully.

"Impatient little wench, aren't you?" he joked, kissing his way back up her body and finally ending the long period of rediscovery by settling himself above her. His tone then turned softly serious. "Are you sure about this, Ginny?" he asked, as he gently stroked her cheek. He was asking permission, even after all they'd done. The question was reminiscent of their first time together, and she found the moment achingly sweet.

She nodded. She'd never been more sure. "I love you," she said again, feeling that the words were inadequate for expressing the depth of emotion that she felt for him.

He lowered himself into her with a groan of contentment, and she thought that she would burst from the feeling of him joining with her again. It was just as pleasurable, but this time was different. Something was more permanent, more emotional than she'd felt before. The feeling of him within was almost unbearably beautiful, and she rocked her hips to feel more of him, tears springing to her eyes.

She wanted him to promise that it would be like this always, but a niggling feeling of fear stopped her from saying more. The moment was too perfect to spoil with her worries for tomorrow.

As the unbearable pleasure assaulted her from within, she moaned his name, looking up into his intense gray eyes. He rocked forward again, a drop of sweat slowly dripping along his cheek and his eyes glazed over as he returned her gaze. With one final trust, she felt him fill her even further, and he groaned in release, slowly stopping his movements, but never looking away from her.

After a long moment of silence between them, he rolled to her side, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a tender embrace. "I love you, too," he said firmly.

The words nearly made her cry, and she buried her face into his chest, praying that the night would never end.

"Promise me you'll still be here when I wake up," he said sleepily, his arms tightening around her protectively.

"I'm not going anywhere," she replied, her voice hoarse with emotion, wrapping her arms around him in return.

"Good. Because tomorrow, I'm going to convince you about what a wonderful life you can have here with me."

Within moments, he was asleep. She'd been in almost this exact position the last time they were here together, the night she kissed him and left. The same feeling of comfort and security surrounded her as she lay in his embrace, but this time, she allowed herself to give into her longing to join him in sleep.


	22. Chapter 22 Out of the Ashes Part 2

- - -

Chapter 22

- - -

He woke early, still amazed that she was truly there with him, after all the months of waiting. Watching her in sleep, he allowed himself a moment of unrestrained happiness, but only a moment. Their worries were far from over.

He was sure Ginny would be hungry when she woke and he didn't know if she knew how to prepare food without magic. Resisting the urge to reach over and touch her, he got out of bed and tugged on his sweatpants. The small apartment was chilly in the mornings.

Padding over to the kitchen, he looked over its meager contents and started on making toast. He decided he would amaze her with his recently acquired ability to cook eggs after she was fully awake so that she could appreciate it. As he put the kettle on the small stove, he glanced over at the bed, noticing that she'd snuggled further into the blankets, likely missing his lost body heat.

She stirred, sniffing the air at the scent of the toast, giving a small, sleepy smile. The action increased his desire to rejoin her under the warmth of the blankets. Placing the toast and jam on a plate, he then set the breakfast on the worn table at the bedside.

"Wake up, love," he said cheerfully, nudging her gently.

Burrowing into the blankets, she grumbled. "Pregnant women need more sleep."

"Pregnant women need to eat, as well," he chided. "I believe you never had dinner last night."

Making an incoherent sound in agreement, Ginny reluctantly sat up, pulling the blankets up to cover herself, and reaching for the toast and juice on the table. She smiled as she bit into the toast.

"You cooked this yourself, without an elf?"

"And without magic," he replied seriously. "I was about to make eggs too, if you'd like."

She looked at him incredulously. "I'd like to see that."

He grinned and leaned in to kiss her, playfully licking a crumb from the side of her mouth. As he bounced back to the kitchen, eager to show off his newly acquired skill, she was truly reminded about why she'd fallen for him, and how terribly she'd missed him. Then, as she watched him make a show of turning on the stove, she wondered how she'd survived the last three months without him, without the small slices of joy that helped her through each day.

She flopped back onto the pillows with a smile, thinking of how she'd enjoy thanking him after consuming the breakfast, regardless of how successful he was at the endeavor.

Her very naughty thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door, causing both of them to look up in alarm. He immediately reached for his wand while she scrambled to crawl back into the clothing she'd worn the previous night.

He checked the door and opened it with all due caution, ready to curse any threat into oblivion. However, the open door only allowed entry to Hermione, accompanied by a blast of cold, winter air.

As she entered the room, Hermione looked suspiciously at Draco, still only half-dressed, and he only gave her a curt scowl before moving back to the stove to finish his task before it went up in flames. Turning back to Ginny, her expression quickly changed to a mixture of concern and delight. "Ginny! You're really here!"

Ginny grinned in return, as she tugged on a sock, then ran to hug her friend. "It's been too long. I was so happy to hear that you, Harry and Ron were safe."

"It's good to see you safe too," Hermione said, releasing Ginny from the hug and looking back at Draco, who had begun spooning eggs onto a plate, cursing colorfully as he burned his finger on the hot pan. Despite their current allegiance, Ginny observed that her friend was, apparently, still distrustful of him. "Harry said that Fred was staying here with you, so I didn't need to come over last night. But..."

Ginny glanced back at Draco, who was grinning innocently and informed her, "Fred's not here."

"Oh," said Hermione, looking a bit uncertain for a moment, then produced a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ from the large bag she had draped over her shoulder. "Well, the good news is that your death in the fire made the second page. So far, it looks like we were successful. We'll have to see if the next few days play out, though."

Ginny took the paper and quickly started to skim through the story. It was reported that the building had been destroyed, and that she and one horse were inside. The initial finding was that Ginny was at fault for using Muggle methods to light a fire and failing to have her wand with her. More focus seemed to be on the non-magical methods rather than on the identification of the body found in the building. Apparently, there seemed to be no reason to suspect that the body wasn't Ginny.

"One horse was inside?" she asked, turning to Draco.

She watched his face fall in shame as he nodded. "Barnabas," was all he said.

She gasped. "Oh, Draco, no!"

He tried to appear impassive, but she'd have none of it, leaving Hermione's side to go to him. He shook off her attempt at hugging him, guilt overriding his need for comfort. "It was my fault. I planned badly."

He looked away, busying himself with the remainder of the food and ignoring her. Ginny frowned, feeling a sense of loss. The horse had been special to the both of them.

Knowing he was hurting, she also understood that he probably didn't want to show weakness in front of Hermione. Instead, she followed his direction to finish her breakfast without complaint while he left the room to dress for the day.

Sitting at the small table, she read the rest of the article, while Hermione seated herself in the other chair. As Ginny finished reading, she looked up at her friend, feeling a horrible sense of dread.

"What about my parents? They're going to see this! They're going to think I'm dead!"

"That's the idea," Hermione replied solemnly.

The factual tone of her response was surprising, and Ginny stared at her friend for a long moment, trying to comprehend the lack of sympathy from Hermione. The other girl simply returned her gaze, looking level and calm. To her, this was business. Even thought it was unpleasant, the action was necessary, and she could see Hermione lifting her chin with determination.

Ginny suddenly came to realize that the others had changed over the past four years, just as she had. Hermione had apparently become a bit hardened, likely a necessary trait during their time in hiding. She swallowed, and nodded in understanding.

Hermione gave her a sympathetic smile, looking a bit older and more tired than Ginny remembered. The years had obviously been hard on her friend, making Ginny realize that she hadn't been alone in her trials during Voldemort's reign. It was comforting in a way, but also quite sad.

She opened up the bag again, and began rummaging through the contents. "I brought you some Muggle clothing. I wasn't sure what to get, because I wasn't sure of your size, but these should get us through for a few days," she continued. "I'm sorry I didn't bring them over yesterday, but I had to be at The Burrow, covering for Harry and Fred's absence."

"Thank you, Hermione. The boys told me about what you did to find a double for me. It was brilliant," she told her.

Her friend smiled and nodded, but said nothing. Instead, she once again turned to her large bad and pulled out several items of clothing and handed them to Ginny. As she examined the items, she grinned. They were obviously second hand, and far more practical than stylish. After wearing nothing but the finest garments for the past year, Ginny was reminded of the used clothing she'd hated wearing when she was young. Now, nothing seemed more wonderful than these.

Draco returned to the room, but said nothing, looking a bit uncomfortable at intruding on their conversation. He merely nodded and reached for his cloak.

"You're leaving?" Ginny asked.

"Sorry, ladies," he said, putting on a superior smirk. Again, Ginny caught his facade, knowing that he was hiding his feelings from Hermione. "Somebody has to work to keep you both in the luxury you've come to expect."'

"Work?" She blinked and tried to comprehend what he'd just said. He was dressed in simple Muggle clothing and it seemed that he was implying that he worked. As she looked around the tiny place, she wondered why. He certainly had embezzled enough Galleons from his father's accounts to afford better than this, but decided that the questions would wait until they were alone. She felt the urge to give him a kiss goodbye, but the cavalier look on his face made her reconsider it. It seemed clear that he did not yet feel comfortable letting the others in on his feelings, and she would respect that for now.

As soon as the door closed, Hermione turned to her. "He didn't bother you last night, did he?"

"What?"

"The plan was for one of us stay with you, and Harry said he left Fred here last night, but apparently there seemed to be some miscommunication."

"Good heavens, Hermione. Do you see how small this place is? Having three of us would just be ridiculous. Draco was wonderful. He even made me breakfast."

"You trust him?"

"With all my heart, yes," she replied with conviction.

- - - -

He read over his letter for the tenth time, once again verifying that he didn't write anything that anyone couldn't have gleaned from reading what had been published in the _Prophet_. Then, he walked into work, just as he'd done regularly for the past few weeks and gave a meaningful glance in the direction of the small brown owl that resided in the rafters of the building.

One of the advantages of working in a stable was that nobody noticed that the owl living there had a greater purpose than hunting mice. He quietly summoned the creature, looking over his letter once more before attaching it and sending the owl to Bella.

A few hours later, his workday done, he changed into his normal wizarding attire and went to meet his aunt. He had mixed feelings about meeting her at the morgue but it, unfortunately, was necessary to suit his purposes.

"How could you let this happen, Bella?" he asked impatiently, foregoing any salutations as he walked purposefully toward her. With no small amount of irritation gracing his features, he motioned to the body that was supposedly Ginny, as if accusing his aunt of not being reliable enough to protect her.

Bella didn't look entirely distraught, but she did manage to look a bit abashed.

"Well, I was hardly expecting to have to protect her from an accident," she spat back.

He lifted the sheet, containing his features to show only a moderate grimace at the gory sight that was beneath. The body was even less recognizable than when he'd left it the day before, but enough remained to identify a pregnant, red-haired woman. Fortunately, he had no attachment to the dead person, and his reaction came across as appropriately distanced.

"So much for that plan," he said, with a tinge of regret, knowing that Bella would assume that he had merely been using Ginny. It was all key to making sure his aunt thought he was heartless enough to be worthy of her endorsement to Voldemort.

"Yes, although the plan was rather rash on your part to begin with," Bella agreed, looking at him with a small amount of irritation.

"It was a convenience, and would have been appropriate means for revenge," he said, pausing for dramatic effect. "And might I remind you that you enjoyed the idea as well?"

She cackled in response, and he internally cringed at how little remorse the witch had over Ginny's apparent death.

Bella didn't miss his disapproving look, but she gleefully interpreted it as he was upset over the change in plans, not her tactless reaction. She patted his arm condescendingly. "Don't worry, dear Draco. Not all is lost. This is merely a small setback."

He raised an eyebrow, hoping that his manipulation of her had worked. He tried to suppress his enthusiasm when she spoke the words he'd been waiting for weeks to hear.

"I think it's time to once again bring you back into the Dark Lord's fold."

He allowed himself a slightly smug smile, not entirely an act. He'd been hoping and dreading this exact development. "Well, I was hoping you would say something like that, Bella, and this seems to give us both cause to expedite that a bit. After all, if you help me, I can only help you," he said, giving his aunt an appropriately sly smile.

His aunt's face lit with delight, which was always unnerving. "I always knew you were a good boy, Draco. The Dark Lord will understand that your resistance was only an act of rebellion against your father. When I explain the circumstances of how you used his wife against him, our Master will welcome you back with open arms."

He gave her a triumphant smile. "Then we both win, Aunt Bella."

"Of course."

He turned to leave, swirling his cape around him in an appropriately dramatic fashion. After taking out his wand to Apparate, he appeared to think for a moment then turned to look back at his aunt.

"I trust she will not be buried next to my mother," he said, sounding more than a touch concerned.

Bella grinned at him fondly, her eyes dancing with her usual insane glee. "Of course not, dear boy. There was some arrangement where, if she died, her body would be sent back to her family. Lucius apparently only needs to sign something to finalize the matter."

He looked at the covered sheet, his concern showing over the matter. "Please see that he does. Quickly."

Bella smiled condescendingly. "Don't worry, my love. I'm sure that he will and the horrid little blood traitors should be here to collect her soon."

"Good," he said, with genuine relief, and strode away exuding far more confidence than he felt.

- - - -

After breakfast and her shower, Ginny was ready to sit down and hear Hermione's tale of what she and the boys had been up to for four years. Unfortunately, Ginny was soon disappointed to find that her friend was determined to keep the details of their adventure vague out of necessity.

"Not that I don't want to tell you," Hermione stated, in her typical, matter-of-fact tone. "But we can't risk you knowing anything if this fails and you need to go back."

The words weren't meant to be painful, but Ginny felt the sting anyway. They moved onto other topics, such as the clothing that Hermione had obtained and how Muggle styles differed from their usual attire, or what subjects Hermione had been studying while they were away.

The lighter topics kept them occupied for much of the day, and Ginny learned more of details of their work in planning her rescue. Unfortunately, as a result of the conversation, the topic of her life at Malfoy Manor couldn't be avoided.

"Harry nearly cried when he heard what had happened to you," Hermione finally said rather abruptly.

Ginny looked down, biting her lip. "Hermione, please..."

"I know you did what you thought was right, but Lucius Malfoy..." She paused, biting her lip and Ginny could tell she was holding back. "Every day he finds ways to make sure that things get worse in the Muggle world, and he's made a mission of changing the laws so that anyone who wants to cause damage there gets away with it. He's evil, Ginny. To be having his child... We were more than a little shocked."

Ginny looked up at her friend, her eyes wide. Not that she hadn't expected some sort of reprimand from Hermione, but mostly because she suddenly realized that Hermione was not aware of her affair with Draco. It left her in a bit of a dilemma on whether or not to tell the truth of her child's parentage.

Hermione continued, "We're still suspicious of Draco's motives. He says he wants to help, and I can only assume it's because he's protecting his inheritance. I looked up as much as I could and found that in the past few months he's been on the verge of being disinherited. His father has filed preliminary paperwork on it. He stands much more to gain by you not having that baby. I don't trust him. For some reason Fred does, but he won't say why."

Ginny scowled. "I trust him Hermione and I'm glad to hear that Fred does too. I have my reasons. I've gotten to know him quite well over the past year."

Hermione took her hand and leaned forward, looking concerned. "I'd feel better if you were a little more specific," she said.

Ginny shook her head in response. Hermione and Harry had never liked Draco, but they were willing to work with him and that was a start. However, since Hermione was keeping secrets for the time-being, she felt that it was likely best that she do the same – just in case. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I'd rather not say until we're certain that the plan worked. Just understand that I know him and I trust him."

Hermione nodded, but her expression remained doubtful. Ginny decided it would have to be good enough for the moment.

By evening, Draco returned with food, but saying little about his day, only that he'd met with Bella, and things still appeared to be progressing normally. Harry and Fred also managed to stop by to check on her and update on how the family was dealing with the situation.

Through it all, Ginny fought to remain calm. Knowing that her parents were distraught only added to her stress. And worse, she feared for what would happen to her rescuers if they were caught.

She was grateful that the room was far too small to accommodate many people comfortably, because it left them willing to leave her alone with Draco at the end of the day. To quell Harry's suspicious nature, Draco had even made a show of pulling out a small Muggle cot, to make it appear that he was sleeping on that.

The next day went much the same, although the conversations became more uneasy due to the fact that there were simply too many topics that they were avoiding.

She looked forward to when the others left at night, and she would finally be able to turn to Draco and lose herself in a fantasy of normalcy. Draco would crawl into bed with her, holding her until the morning, giving her a few hours of respite from her worries. She pretended each night, while they made love, that nothing else existed and slept soundly, feeling safe in his embrace.

- - - -

On the third morning, the funeral was held. Of her rescuers, only Fred was in attendance, although the plan was that he would only stay long enough to pay his respects and verify that everything appeared normal.

It was a tense wait. Lucius had signed the papers, releasing Ginevra Malfoy's body to her family, but until it was over, there was still some chance that he might suspect some sort of deception.

They were all with her that morning, Harry, Hermione and Draco, waiting for the moment that Fred returned to tell them that it was over. Ginny found herself to be more nervous waiting for news of her own burial than she did on the day she walked into Lucius' office to make the deal that had gotten her into this mess.

Ginny didn't speak during the entire time. She sat on the bed, nibbling on her lower lip in worry and constantly shifting uncomfortably. Draco and Harry sat on either side of her, Harry occasionally taking her hand to give it a reassuring squeeze, and Draco rubbing comforting circles on her back. Hermione attempted to sit in the chair for a while but abandoned that in favor of pacing nervously back and forth, occasionally babbling about the plan and the scenarios that were playing in her head.

Listening to the chatter, Ginny just became more and more tense. After all, if all went according to plan, Ginny Malfoy would be officially dead. It was quite a bizarre thought.

Finally, just after noon, Fred returned, dressed in his best clothing.

"It's over. It looks like Malfoy doesn't suspect a thing," he said immediately, not even pausing to give a proper greeting. "He signed the papers yesterday, and she was buried in the Weasley family plot."

The room breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Fred merely nodded in agreement, reaching for his sister's hand and helping her up from her seat. "We best get going, Mum and Dad are at Bill's for dinner now. I'd like to get Ginny home and wait for them there."

Ginny was hidden under the Invisibility Cloak with Harry and Draco, who also could not afford to be seen headed toward the Burrow.

When they entered the house, it was empty. "Mum and Dad must still be at Bill's. They had everyone over for dinner after the..." Fred started to say.

But Ginny never heard the rest of his sentence. As soon as she looked about the room, her full attention was diverted to her surroundings. The last time she'd stood in that living room had been almost a year ago and, at the time, she had wondered if she would ever return. The thought of once again returning to her old home was achingly sweet.

The others fell silent as they watched her move about the room, drinking in the sight after being away for so long. Automatically, she looked up at the clock to see two hands with Fred's face pointed toward "home".

She chuckled at their cleverness.

"You covered my hand on the clock," she stated, walking over to inspect it more closely.

Hermione moved over and cast a spell to remove the charm that hid Ginny's hand with Fred's picture. "I figured that she wouldn't notice the extra twin in there. I put a fake hand down that looked like yours had dropped off," she said sadly. "I felt terrible when she saw it but there was no other way."

The others fell awkwardly silent after the remark, and Ginny merely nodded in response, looking around the eerily quiet house. Just as quiet as the day she'd left it so long ago. She wandered around the room for several minutes, feeling like a stranger in her former home. Eventually, the silence became awkward, and she became uncomfortable knowing that her companions were watching her every move.

She set her foot on the stairs and looked up at the comfortingly awkward angles of the staircase. It called to her. "I think I'd like to go up to my old room for a moment," she said finally, feeling the need to be alone.

"Do you want some company?" Harry asked quickly.

She just shook her head no and continued up the stairs. She wanted to get away from them all. It was wonderful that they were so concerned but they were becoming just a bit smothering, especially Harry. She gave a heavy sigh, realizing that when her mother came home, the smothering was likely to get a bit worse.

She wandered up the stairs slowly, almost tentatively, breathing in the sights and smells of her old home along the way. Opening the door to her room, she felt her eyes watering with unexpected tears. Her shabby little bedroom had never looked more wonderful. It was almost exactly as she left it.

Grabbing one of her favorite dolls, she sat down on the bed, caressing the handmade dress that it wore, remembering how she and her mother had made the item together. It seemed so very long ago, when she was a little girl, and it reminded her bitterly of her loss of innocence.

Suddenly, she felt tired. Very, very tired. Every last bit of stress and fear seemed to flow out of her body as she lay back on her old bed and stared at the familiar patterns on the ceiling. Tears began to leak out of her eyes as she remembered the last time she'd stared at that same spot.

She pulled the warm quilt from her bed over her and cuddled her doll, taking in the smells that were uniquely home. She'd missed it so very much. Closing her eyes, she drifted off to sleep.

A knock on the door interrupted her nap a short while later, and she jumped up, startled and confused for several long seconds before her sleepy mind processed where she was.

Hermione peeked in a few seconds later, looking concerned.

"I'm sorry," Ginny greeted her, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

"It's all right," her friend replied kindly. "They were getting worried and wanted me to check on you. Your parents are home. It's time."

Ginny waited at the top of the stairs, so that they could prepare her parents for the shock of seeing her again, but it was difficult to wait. She watched her mother once again break into tears as she hugged Harry and then Draco. The scene was surreal, she thought, seeing that Draco actually seemed familiar with her parents, and that her mother welcomed him warmly. But she didn't dwell on the thought, because she was too torn about seeing the pain in her mother's eyes.

"Draco, dear, you didn't need to come today. It's dangerous for you to be seen," her mother started to say, her eyes welling with fresh tears. "I worry for you boys."

"Actually, Mrs. Weasley, we did need to be here," Harry interrupted before she started to go further on the topic. "We have a bit of a surprise for you. But you might want to sit down first."

"Oh, I don't think today is such a good day for a surprise, Harry. I'm not sure how much I can take right now."

Fred smiled. "You'll like this one, Mum. We promise."

She sat on the couch, her husband sitting next to her, wrapping an arm around her in comfort. Ginny got a good look at the puffy redness around the eyes of both her parents. They'd been through hell, thinking that she was dead, and she felt guilty that they'd been unable to tell them sooner.

"Please don't be angry," Hermione added. "We had to do it this way, so that Mr. Malfoy would really think she was dead. Your reactions had to be completely real, or he might have suspected..."

Molly Weasley's face paled as if afraid of what she might hear next, and Arthur's grip tightened around his wife's shoulders. "What are you saying, dear?" she began, not quite comprehending, but her father's jaw dropped open in realization. Ginny saw Draco turn and nod at her and she, somewhat shakily, descended the stairs.

A small, tentative smile came unbidden to Ginny's lips, part of her reverting to how she felt as a small child, worrying that her mother might be angry with her for putting her through such trauma.

"Hey, Mum."

Somehow, she thought her first words upon speaking to her mother again would have been a bit more eloquent.

A strangled shriek escaped her mother's throat as she clutched a hand over her heart. Ginny caught a glimpse of Hermione moving to help her mother, and another glimpse of her father, grinning so widely that she thought his face might split. But then her attention went back solely to her mother, who was practically bouncing up from her seat. Ginny didn't feel her feet moving forward, but suddenly found herself standing in the middle of the living room, wrapped firmly in her mother's arms.

Her mother was a bit thinner than she remembered but her hug was just as warm, almost smothering. Ginny didn't care, as joyful tears poured down her face. She embraced her mother's warm form with everything she had, the pair of them gently rocking from side to side in mutual comfort. A year's worth of hugs needed to be done and both seemed determined to catch up on the quota in that one moment.

Ginny then felt another pair of loving arms come around her from behind and she quickly realized that it was her father, embracing them both. She looked up long enough to give him a tearful smile as she happily allowed both her parents to practically crush her with joy.

She was finally home.

-


	23. Chapter 23 Confessions of a Daughter

It had been a wonderful, tearful welcome home and Ginny felt that she was so happy that it was almost surreal. Her parents refused to let her out of their sight for the rest of the afternoon, frequently walking past to touch her in some way, be it a kiss, a hug, or just a touch on her shoulder, as if they couldn't quite fathom that she was more than a wishful apparition. Under normal circumstances, she might have found it bothersome, but this was far from normal, and she found their affectionate touches comforting.

She snuggled next to her father on the old, familiar couch while her mother joyfully went to the kitchen to cook a meal especially for her. She curled up under a warm quilt with her father's arm protectively around her shoulders, listening to him chatter on about anything and everything, from the life story of George's baby girl to what her mother cooked for dinner on the day that Ron, Harry and Hermione had returned. It was wonderful, comforting conversation.

It had been a long time since she'd been in the safe embrace of her father, and she hadn't realized how much she'd desperately missed it. Whenever things had been bad over the years, even if she'd only fallen and scraped a knee, her father had always been there to make her feel better, sitting much like this and babbling about anything and everything until whatever had bothered her no longer mattered. She joyfully fell into that comfort now, slowly drifting off to sleep, the familiar smell of her mother's cooking filling the air.

Arthur continued to talk as she drowsed against his shoulder, mostly to Harry and Hermione, although she was aware of Draco's presence in the room also. The group recounted the events leading to her rescue, a story Ginny now knew by heart, and she allowed the sound of their voices to lull her into happy dreams.

After an hour or so, the conversation died down to more mundane topics. Hermione left to relay the news of the to Ginny's brothers, and they would arrange for them to come and visit soon. She expected to see them all the next day at the next meeting of what remained of the Order of the Phoenix. Ginny cringed at the thought. The repercussion as a result of two of her brothers rebelling against Voldemort's government had gotten her into this mess, and the idea of her entire family actively planning some sort of insurrection left her feeling uncomfortable.

After darkness fell, Draco left alone, claiming that he needed to be at work early in the morning. Ginny watched in dismay, part of her wanting to return to the tiny apartment with him and part of her wanting to stay in the comfort and safety of her childhood home. In the end, propriety won out.

She gathered that, while the twins knew something more about her baby's father, neither they nor Draco had said anything to the others, leaving it to her to decide to tell or not tell the rest of her family about her child's true parentage. Obviously as a result of the rescue, her parents were aware of Draco's friendship with her, but they didn't yet know the full story about him being her child's father. She needed to be tactful in that regard. And even if they did understand, as far-fetched as that might be, leaving to be with Draco would be simply seem wrong as long as she remained married to another man.

The two lovers shared a longing look before he turned to leave, and she knew he had already analyzed the situation the same way that she had.

Conversely, Harry brightened as soon as the blond disappeared into the winter darkness. Ginny gave a small sigh. She was happy that the two men had become allies, but it was apparent that they would likely never be friends, and even now, years after school rivalries had become insignificant, they remained competitors.

Her mother made sure to serve her extra large helpings at dinner, and Ginny enjoyed every bite, happily enjoying the simple, mundane conversation about her mother's cooking. After the meal finished, Harry moved his chair closer to hers while her mother continued to bustle about the kitchen, dishing out a second helping of dessert for her, despite her protests.

"You need to maintain a healthy weight, young lady. You are far too thin, and you have a little one who needs nourishment."

It was true that she'd failed to maintain her weight because the last three months without Draco had taken a toll on her. She gave a half-hearted protest, "But Mum..."

"No 'buts', Ginevra. You can worry about weight after the baby is born. I'll not have him start off at a disadvantage, no matter who his father is."

Harry smiled at her. "She's right, Ginny. We're here for you," he said, taking her hand. His gesture was intended to be comforting, but she became uncomfortably aware that Harry meant something more. She didn't want to play with his feelings, knowing that she'd sorted out her own feelings for Harry months ago when she chose to begin her affair with Draco. While she welcomed his comfort and his friendship, she no longer felt any attraction to him whatsoever.

Only Harry and her parents where in the room. Hermione was still out relaying the story to the rest of the family, and Ron was yet to return from Bill's, making Ginny suddenly realize that there was no better time to tell them the truth.

She gently pulled her hand from under Harry's grasp. "I understand, Mum. I'll eat up in a few minutes. I really am just a bit full right now."

Her mother smiled knowingly, and Ginny had a strong feeling that her weight would be up to normal and then some before long.

She paused, trying to come up with the proper way to start the difficult topic she needed to address, when Harry spoke up again.

"Don't worry about a little weight, Ginny," he said sweetly. "As it is, you're even prettier than I remembered." He nodded to her parents, and they smiled encouragingly. Apparently, they'd hoped that somehow Harry would still want her after the fiasco that had become of her life during the past year. She understood their intentions, but she found it just a tad annoying.

"It's been over four years since you've seen me, Harry," she said, rather more sternly than she intended. "I'm not sixteen anymore."

He looked hurt, but somehow, she didn't want to apologize. She'd waited for him for so very long while he was off on his quest, and it had hurt her deeply at the time. He needed to understand that, and she hoped that if he did, it might soften the blow that she was about to deliver.

She looked up at her parents. All afternoon they'd been trying to avoid asking about her life at Malfoy Manor, but she could tell that the questions were burning in their minds. The fact that she was pregnant was bad enough, and she could only imagine what they currently thought of her. She tried not to think about it herself.

"Mum, Dad," she looked up, willing herself to keep from trembling as she prepared herself to give them the awkward news. She looked over at Harry. "Harry... I have something that I need to tell you, and I need you to understand."

Her mother immediately sat down across from her at the table, looking worried, as did her father, which didn't make it easier for her to talk. Wanting to alleviate their concerns, she immediately said, "It's nothing terrible, I suppose. But I just want you to listen to me, and not be angry."

Harry's hand once again reached for hers, and she stared down at their hands together on the table before looking up at him.

"I wouldn't be angry with you, Ginny."

She gave a soft chuckle. "Well, we'll see..."

She looked over at her parents, both worried but trying to appear understanding. They'd had a hard few days thinking she'd died. Their relief over her escape worked in her favor at the moment, and she mentally chastised herself for using their feelings to her advantage. She briefly wondered if her attempt at such manipulation was a result of living among the snakes for far too long.

"I'm not quite sure how to say this, though, I suppose in a way it's good news..." she started, although the encouraging look from Harry was eating at her conscience. She drew a deep breath and looked at each of them as she spoke, to make sure they understood the sincerity of her statement. "I want you to know that I'm not the least bit sorry for marrying Lucius. You're alive, Mum. You and Fred and George are alive, and I would do it again in an instant, knowing that I was able to save you."

Her father had moved to sit beside her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We know that, sweetheart. I must admit that none of us were happy with you at the time, but we've managed to adjust to this. What's important is that now you're safe. We'll just take this one step at a time."

"But about the baby..." she said, a tear dropping from her eye as she looked up at her father, knowing that he was hiding his anger toward Lucius and the situation in a desperate attempt to comfort her.

"I'll kill Lucius before I'd let him anywhere near your child. The baby's half yours, and he has no right to take him from you, even if it is his son," he said, his righteous anger now bubbling near the surface.

She stopped her father before he could continue. "But Da, that's the problem. Lucius only thinks that it's his."

She felt Harry cringe at her side as she watched both her parents recoil involuntarily in shock.

Their reaction didn't make her next words any easier. She took a deep breath. "The baby is Draco's," she said, her voice dropping to barely a whisper. She cringed at the thought of what her parents would think of her, their little girl. Despite the fact that the man she'd married was a monster, admitting that she'd had relations with a man outside of that marriage was not exactly admirable.

Harry stiffened at her side but didn't move away, and she was too embarrassed to look up to meet any of their gazes, fearing the condemnation that she might find there. Instead, she heard her father gasp and then his hold around her shoulders tightened.

"I know this is messed up..." she said, a small sob escaping as the little girl in her desperately hoped that her parents would somehow find a way to make it all right.

Her father wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her close and giving her a kiss on the head. She collapsed against him, allowing her tears to fall.

"I'll kill him," Harry muttered with conviction.

"No!" She pulled from her father's embrace and turned to Harry, grabbing his arm, hoping she could keep him from doing anything rash. "Please, let me finish! It's my fault. I'm the one that wanted to...get involved with him."

She looked at Harry, whose disbelief was evident on his face, then back to her parents, who both looked more than a bit concerned.

"Ginny, maybe it's best if you start at the beginning," her mother said, her voice strained, although she seemed to be willing herself to listen.

Ginny nodded and proceeded to give them a carefully edited version of how she and Draco had developed a close friendship over the months. She saw her mother smile when she told them about the swamp, and the horses, her riding lessons, and Draco's birthday. She even gave some accounts of Draco helping her when she was injured, although she didn't give any details about how badly she'd been hurt. Of course, they were well aware of him delivering letters back and forth, and she felt herself smiling as she remembered how happy she was to receive each one. Somewhere during her dissertation, Harry had moved away from her, although she didn't mind.

"... and, well, somewhere along the way, we became more than friends," she finished.

It was quite obvious that her audience was stunned speechless, and it was a better reaction than she'd expected. She looked about, unsure of what to say next.

"Lucius knows about us. That's why Draco was banished from the Manor. If he finds out the truth, he says he'll kill both Draco and the baby."

She saw her mother's expression change to a hardened resolve. If there was one thing certain about her mother, it was that she would never stand by while a child was threatened. Again, Ginny felt a pang of guilt, realizing that she was using their emotions to her advantage, but she shoved that aside, knowing that she was only trying to lead them to a beneficial outcome for all involved.

Her father was surprisingly calm about the matter, biting his lip thoughtfully.

"The twins said he tried to convince you to leave a long time ago and that you refused. Is that true?"

She nodded. "He and I fought about it. Even now, you're all in danger if Lucius comes to suspect that I'm not dead. As long as Voldemort is in power..."

"He won't be for long," Harry broke in, his expression changing to one of determination. "We've been working on the details for the last two months. We would have taken you out sooner, Ginny, but we needed to find a body-double to make it convincing. We've been working on finishing this."

"That's why Draco seemed so familiar with being here."

Her mother smiled at her. "He's been here almost every night, planning with Harry and the others. Of course, I didn't realize that part of that was planning a way to bring you back to us."

She looked at her mother with worry. "He's on the inside, isn't he? He's been working with them."

They nodded and Harry began speaking bluntly. "He's playing up to Bellatrix Lestrange and trying to get an audience with Voldemort, although I'm not sure how well we can rely on him. Did you know he was there when Tonks was killed? He was on the raid when they took Teddy."

No, she hadn't known, and the surprise was likely evident on her features. Obviously, Harry was trying to initiate distrust, but her mother interrupted in Draco's defense. "He's the reason Remus survived, Harry. If he hadn't been there, they'd both be dead."

"So he says," Harry added.

"Remus said so," Molly stated firmly, making Ginny smile at her mother's tone. It almost sounded as though she were stopping an altercation between her brothers. Draco truly had spent time here and her mother had become fond of him along the way. Draco had lost his mother, just as Harry had lost his, and Ginny knew her mother had a clear weakness for taking in lost souls.

Silence followed Molly's intervention, as Harry slumped like a child, glum that he'd lost his argument.

"When will it be over?" Ginny asked him, hoping to pull him out of this train of thought.

Harry looked up at her, a fierce determination coming to his eyes as he focused on his quest to end Voldemort, and Ginny realized that his desire to defeat Voldemort was all-consuming. It gave him purpose, and she suddenly found herself worrying about the dark-haired boy's future once his mission was finally completed.

"Soon, Ginny," he said. "When Voldemort's gone and the Ministry is restored, we'll be able to get back to our real lives." His voice was so assuring that she felt a twinge of pity for him come over her. Her Harry was an idealist, believing that a some sort of perfect world existed beyond the reign of Voldemort, and she did love him for that.

Unfortunately, she still felt that though her parents were softening to the idea that Harry might not be her future, Harry still held out hope that somehow she'd fit into his post-Voldemort utopia.

The room fell once again into an uncomfortable silence while Ginny tried to find another topic that might divert attention away from her recent confession. She was saved from her dilemma by the disruptive sound of Ron entering the room in an obvious hurry. The disbelieving look on Ron's face clearly told her that Hermione and Fred had been successful in getting word to her other brothers about her safe return.

After entering, Ron simply stood in the doorway staring at Ginny as if he was seeing a ghost. She felt her face lift into a genuine smile.

"Hello, Ron," she said, rising to greet the brother she hadn't seen in over four years. She noted how he'd changed, growing taller and broader and paler than she remembered. Watching his face light up with joy made her literally leap at him eagerly. He caught her mid-air, wrapped his arms around her tightly, then suddenly placed her on her feet and pulled away as if she had burned him in some way.

Surprised by his reaction, she quickly noticed he was staring at her stomach in shock. "Oh God, Ginny, did I hurt you?" The expression on his face was positively priceless, reminding her of when they were children. Ron, in his typically dim way, had thought he'd injured her or the baby with a hug.

She laughed.

She laughed loud and hard, releasing months of fear and sorrow and tension in a moment of simple, true joy. Just for this moment, everything felt right again, and there was nothing in her world but her family, and her brother being himself.

The joyful sound was contagious, and suddenly the sound echoed around her as her parents and Harry joined in, leaving poor Ron looking even more horrified and confused as he realized that he was the object of the joke. It would only be later that she realized that she hadn't laughed so joyously for so many months, and looking at Ron's offended expression, she doubled over all the more.

"What the hell?" he asked as the laughter died down.

She chuckled in response. "No, you didn't hurt me, Ron. It's just that I missed you so much."

He looked at her suspiciously, then at Harry. "All those months with Malfoy made her go a bit bonkers, did it?"

She broke out into another fit of giggles, hugging her brother tightly, and reveling in the feeling of him hugging her back.

"I'm sorry, Ron," she finally managed to say.

"Well, you should be. Not very nice of you. Scaring me half to death by letting me think you were dead." He turned on Harry. "And how could you, Harry? How could you do that to me?"

Harry looked appropriately abashed, but his voice was firm when he spoke. "I had to, Ron; we couldn't risk anyone guessing the truth."

"You could have given me just a bit of a hint!"

Molly interrupted before Ron got himself too worked up. "You wear your heart on your sleeve, Ron. You always have. We all would have noticed. Even though you didn't go to the funeral, they couldn't risk us suspecting and giving Lucius cause to think it wasn't real."

Ginny watched the exchange with another wave of guilt, knowing that her family had been enduring horrible grief over the last few days.

Ron continued to look offended, but then she noticed his expression change to one of acceptance. It wasn't the reaction she'd expected, and she realized that her brother had grown up over the last four years, just as she had. She decided that she was looking forward to becoming reacquainted with the brother she'd always been closest to.

He sat down next to her, looking at her closely, probably wondering the same about her. "I did miss you, Ron," she said gently.

"Yeah," he said, giving her a familiar smile. "I'd ask what you've been up to, but..." he glanced at her stomach again. "I'm not sure I want to know. God, Ginny, if I'd been here, I'd never have let you go through with that. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that it was the only way to keep everyone alive," she responded, lifting her chin stubbornly.

Ron looked abashed, and she realized that he was likely feeling some guilt about having been away so long with Harry. He changed the subject and looked back to his dark-haired friend. "She's really safe, then. What Hermione and Fred said..." he looked about the room, his eyes settling on Harry.

"Not entirely," Harry replied. "If Lucius finds out she's alive, Hermione says he could sue for breach of contract. With Voldemort's laws in place, we wouldn't have a chance. What few rights she had under the contract would likely be taken away."

"Then it's a good thing that we're having a meeting tomorrow then, yeah?" Ron replied.

"Can you tell me what's going on? What you've been doing all this time?" Ginny asked hopefully, glad for the change of subject.

Harry looked at her intently, again showing his passion for his quest. "We found the last of the items that we needed to destroy him. They were called Horcruxes. With those gone, we can go after Voldemort now."

She listened as Harry finally relayed the story of their search, watching as his expression grew almost distant as he spoke. She finally understood why he'd been gone for so long. Their hunt for the pieces that would allow them to destroy Voldemort had to be as inconspicuous as possible.

"...when Malfoy offered to help, we were able to get into their family vault to get the last one," he said at the conclusion of his tale.

She smiled to herself. Draco had helped them. No wonder her mother had welcomed him so warmly when she saw him.

"So, now you can attack him?"

Harry nodded. "The timing is perfect. In fact, rescuing you gives us some added cover. It looks less suspicious for people to be visiting here if they look like they're coming to comfort your parents."

- - -

The next night, Ginny waited anxiously for the meeting to begin. She would be out of sight, since many of the Order members didn't need to know that she was alive, and for the time-being, it was best that way, but that didn't mean that she couldn't contribute.

But they wouldn't be arriving until after dinner. In the meantime, she was helping her mother prepare food in the kitchen.

Draco arrived first, entering as if it was common for him to arrive at the back door, his face hidden by his hood, carrying a sack of groceries.

Her mother ushered him in, but it was apparent that her actions toward him were a little strained. A few moments later, her father entered the kitchen, took one look at the young man and stated, "Don't take your cloak off yet, Draco. We need to go outside for a little chat."

Ginny blanched and moved to interfere, but her mother stopped her, shaking her head. She hadn't had the chance to warn Draco that she'd let them know their secret and he merely stood there, looking puzzled as Arthur donned his own cloak.

After they'd gone out, Ginny turned to her mother. "Is that really necessary?" she asked.

Her mother nodded in response. "He needs to know where Draco stands on this situation with you," she replied, turning back to unpack the groceries Draco had delivered. Her mother's words weren't unkind, but they did sound pragmatic.

Ginny sighed in resignation, knowing that arguing the matter would do her very little good. She then turned and looked at the bag curiously and felt compelled to ask, "Does he usually bring food?"

Her mother nodded, smiling a little. "He's not so good at cooking yet. We worked out a bit of a barter deal. He brings food, I cook, and he takes home some leftovers for lunch."

Ginny laughed gently at the image, remembering Draco proudly making toast for her. She looked over at the door, hoping the conversation with her father wasn't too terrible for him.

Unfortunately, she never got a chance to find out what transpired during the talk. When he came back in, others were already gathering for dinner and although Draco's presence seemed common in the household, she could sense a level of discomfort with her parents and Harry. She tried to ignore them, but she couldn't ignore Draco's glances across the table whenever possible. Once or twice, she noticed her mother catching their silent interaction, causing her to blush. In a way, it was rather sweet.

- - -

She sat at the top of the stairs, earnestly listening to the meeting, frustrated that she couldn't be more openly involved, yet grateful that she finally knew that maybe, just maybe, they might be able to finally put an end to the nightmarish world that Voldemort was creating.

She couldn't see most of the others attending, with the exception of Draco and Remus Lupin, who was one of the few people outside of direct family who knew that her death had been fabricated.

Harry's passion for his quest was undeniable as he spoke.

She listened as one of the members asked, "You're going to attack Voldemort? But how? He rarely makes appearances even to his closest followers, and even then he arrives at random. He's sequestered away. You'd never get in."

"I'm betting Draco can," Harry said, turning to the blond, who looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable, even nervous.

Ginny looked at him, worry gripping her heart. They'd both escaped from life in the manor and , based on the fact that he'd fabricated a new life, she had assumed that his intention was to remain in hiding with her.

The idea of Draco being used to infiltrate Voldemort's sanctum terrified her. Her heart sank as her thoughts rapidly scanned back to his past interaction with Bella, and she realized that his position was truly unique.

Harry had not lied when he'd told her that plans had been in progress for some time. But as they filled in the details of their plan, she discovered that Draco had been working diligently over the past months to find a way to gain access to Voldemort, and Ginny was surprised at the depth of his involvement.

What he'd done to earn the trust of his Aunt Bella made her stomach turn. However, hearing about Draco's involvement reminded her of the atrocities that continued to be committed by Voldemort's regime. If they did nothing and Voldemort continued his reign, more would die, and she would be forced to remain in hiding. Her child would never be able to grow up in a normal world. She fully came to realize that it had to stop, and it had to stop soon.

She listened as Lupin recounted what had happened on the day they kidnapped Teddy and killed Tonks. It was true that Draco had been there, and she watched him from her hiding spot as the blond sat placidly as the story was told, giving a resigned look up the stairs at her, as if waiting for her to condemn him for his action, or rather, his inaction in saving her friend.

Yet, she also saw how Lupin now sat in the same room with him, and while the two didn't appear to be friendly toward each other, they were clearly allies.

"Bellatrix has set up the audience for the day after tomorrow," Draco explained to the group. "I won't find out the location until then. Once I'm inside the building, I should have some knowledge of the wards and be able to help drop as many as possible for the rest of you to follow."

"How many will be there?" another member asked.

"Likely the entire inner circle, according to Bella," Draco replied. "I think it numbers about thirty. Apparently he likes to have a full quorum for occasions like this. She's suggested that I'll be expected to take the Dark Mark."

"Then the setup is ideal," Harry concluded. "We'll have all of them in one location."

Draco nodded.

Ginny cringed in fear. Draco was walking into an impossibly dangerous situation. Alone. There were so many ways that the plan could fail. She thought of every one of the people who would be attending the audience with Voldemort, knowing that they were the people she'd been seeing at parties and socials for the past year, each with uniquely horrible traits.

Harry relayed the last of the plans, detailing how they would storm the meeting after Draco disclosed the location and lowered the wards he found.

Without question, this was their best chance, but that did little to quell Ginny's frustration. Her mind raced furiously, knowing that she was left out, not only because of her situation with Lucius, but also because they would never allow her to risk her baby by joining them. Once again, she was left in the position of a helpless bystander. She had a year's worth of anger to release on the monsters who had been controlling her world, and she wanted to take an active role.

The meeting ended while she stewed in silence, thinking of each and every person who would be attending that meeting, and all the horrible things they'd done and boasted about at the parties and socials that she'd attended with Lucius.

Then the thought struck her, with pinpoint clarity, that her year in captivity had given her an incredible amount of valuable information.

She sprang up from her spot on the stairs, racing down without regard for secrecy. She collided headlong with Remus Lupin, who was standing near the door,

"Ginny," he said, grasping her shoulders and pulling her aside, out of sight. "People are still leaving. You shouldn't be down here."

But it didn't matter whether or not she was seen. At the moment, she needed to be heard.

She ignored his concern, stood solidly in front of him and stated with all the certainty that she felt, "I can help."

He looked at her questioningly, and she began to babble everything that came to mind. "Rabastan Lestrange's favorite curse is a severing hex. He likes to aim to slice off his opponent's wand hand so he can capture them and torture them later. He finds the slashing curse effective because it's difficult to block."

He looked back at her in surprise. "What?"

"He was boasting about it at the Christmas party just a few weeks ago," she continued. "Flint carries two wands. He can use one in each hand, so he tries to trick you into thinking that his wand hand is behind him, to distract you while he hexes with his left..."

Lupin stared at her in amazement, his eyes wide with realization. "Are you certain?" She nodded vigorously. "Professor, I've been around them for months, watching. If you get in, you all need to know..."

He shook his head in agreement, wrapping his arm around her shoulders comfortingly. "Absolutely, Ginny. Good work. Calm down, though. Let's wait until the rest leave, and we'll talk about it."

She spent the rest of the evening among her family explaining what she knew about every Death Eater in as much detail as she could remember. As she finished, she drew a deep breath, silently praying that her information would be helpful.

She looked about the room at each worried face, her eyes finally settling on Draco, who sat looking stonily calm. He'd already been able to share similar information, but not in the detail she had provided. A deep pit of fear for him settled in her stomach. He would be going into that room alone, and if anything failed, he would likely be the first to die. The thought made her ill, and the fact that he was avoiding eye contact with her gave her no comfort.

"I'll make sure the information gets to the others," Harry said, placing a comforting hand on her knee. She looked over at him, a horrible feeling of helplessness once again overcoming her. Her information would have to be enough.

After the meeting ended, she waited by the door for Draco. She'd had no opportunity to speak with him since she'd returned to the Burrow, and she was hoping to see him before he slipped quietly into the night as he'd done before. Before the evening began, her biggest worry for him had been what her father might have said to him during their conversation, but now things had become much more serious. She paced nervously, remembering how quiet Draco had been throughout the evening.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Remus came by, looking to gather his cloak to leave. He looked sad, much sadder than she'd ever seen him although upon seeing Ginny, he attempted to give a weak smile.

"It will be over, one way or another, Ginny," he told her, trying to sound encouraging, although whether it was for her benefit or his own, she couldn't be certain.

She smiled back at him, feeling a wave of guilt come over her. She'd been among the very people who had killed his wife and stolen his son and she'd been so very useless. She couldn't help but think that if she'd listened more closely to the Death Eater conversations, instead of avoiding them, she might have been able to get word to him and the tragedy never would have happened.

"I'm so sorry, Professor," she said, automatically using his former title because it was what she was most comfortable with.

He looked at her questioningly.

"I had no idea that Bella was planning to take Teddy. If I had, I could have tried to send you a warning..."

His expression turned impossibly sad, and she felt her heart break for him. "Draco tried, Ginny. At the time, I chose not to believe him. As it is, Bellatrix thinks I'm dead because of him, and I would be if he hadn't been there. There was nothing more that you could have done."

She felt her heart warm, knowing that Draco had tried to help.

A sound to her left made her turn and she saw Draco standing in the doorway, apparently coming to retrieve his cloak as well. He said nothing, but there was little doubt that he'd heard the conversation and was politely ignoring it. He gave a brief nod of acknowledgment to Lupin before reaching for his cloak.

The moonlight coming in from the doorway lit his face and hair, making his eyes look hauntingly silver, only adding to his somber expression. He looked ethereal, his beautiful face mixed with pain that made her want to reach out to him.

Professor Lupin interrupted her thoughts. "Have you seen Teddy recently?" he asked. "Is he well?"

She looked back at the older man and realized that she hadn't been paying attention and she realized that, at the very least, her information could give him a little bit of comfort.

"Teddy is doing well, for now," she told him. "I've seen him almost every day. She hasn't hurt him and I'm quite sure she has no intention of hurting him, but she wants to raise him to her way of thinking. So far, the only thing I've seen is that he's being trained to be a bit more formal and there are certain children's stories that he's not allowed to have."

Lupin brightened, a glimmer of hope coming to his eyes. Encouraged, she continued, "His nanny seems like a decent sort. I wasn't particularly close to her but she's very competent with Teddy. She takes him out for walks every afternoon."

Her former professor smiled with relief. "Thank you, Ginny."

She touched his arm, giving what little comfort she could, wondering how terrible it must be for him to be separated from his son in such a brutal way.

"We'll get him back," he added.

"We will," Draco concurred. The two men then looked at each other, matching gazes of determination.

Ginny worried for them both.


	24. Chapter 24 The Lionly Coward

Two days later, Draco received the final information about his audience with the Dark Lord. He'd been anticipating the news but it was still a bit of a shock when he received the final word via owl. He left work, giving his coworkers a contrived excuse and discretely made his way down the road to inform Potter and the others.

He walked into the Burrow, looking shocked and more than a little frightened, but his jaw was set hard with determination. The message he relayed was simple: An audience had been scheduled at the home of Augustus Rookwood that afternoon and a celebration would take place afterward. In other words, Draco would likely be expected to accept the Dark Mark and the party was intended to honor his entry into the ranks of Voldemort's most trusted.

The small group listening fell into a stunned silence. Their moment had finally arrived. Harry, Hermione and Ron left to spread the news personally to each of the Order members. After they departed, Molly Weasley began to bustle about the kitchen to making breakfast in an attempt to keep herself from fussing and fretting.

During the entire time, Ginny was in the room but not included in the activities, leaving her feeling like nothing more than a shadow in the corner. She wouldn't be fighting, on account of her baby, but that didn't explain why Draco seemed to look past her as if she weren't really present.

"What time do you think it will happen?" Molly asked, placing a glass of juice next to Draco's plate.

"Bella said to meet her at noon at the Lestrange mansion near Diagon Alley, but I'm not sure what time we'll leave from there. I suspect she'll want to give me some sort of advice or instructions before I see him," he said, nervously pushing his breakfast around the plate. He barely had eaten any of it, despite Molly's firm encouragement.

Again, Ginny felt excluded as she watched the interaction between Draco and her mother. Molly smiled worriedly, placing a hand on his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. One way or another, something would end that day. All they could do was hope that the outcome would be in their favor. Ginny felt her stomach flip uncomfortably.

Surprisingly, her mother let him move away from the table after only finishing about half of what had been on his plate. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," he told her warmly. He motioned to his Muggle clothing, indicating that it needed to be changed to something more appropriate. "I think I best get dressed to go now, before the others get back."

Watching her mother interact with Draco, Ginny gave a soft smile at the idea that her family was actually worrying about the young man who her brother had once hated so passionately. Even if the worst happened today, she counted herself lucky that she had been able to spend these last few days seeing everyone she loved getting along, even if it was a bit strange.

She tried not to think about what she would do if they failed.

"You can use the twins' old room on the second floor, if you like," her mother replied, using a spoon to direct him to the stairs.

He nodded, thanked her again, then left the room without sparing a glance at Ginny, continuing to behave as if she wasn't even there. She huffed angrily, causing her mother to give her a stern look. Not sure of how to respond, she decided it was best to leave.

Tears sprung to her eyes as she walked up the stairs, unsure of why Draco had chosen to suddenly seem so cold and distant. She tried to reason with herself that he was simply worried and focused on the difficult task that was now imminent, but that thought gave her little comfort. She needed him. She needed to know that what they'd said to each other the night she'd been rescued was real. She needed something to hold on to if the plan failed and he didn't return.

She didn't stop by her room but instead continued down the hall, finding the door to the bath slightly ajar. Peering through the crack, she watched Draco putting on his dress shirt, his hair still messy and tinted light brown from his disguise. A tightness formed in her throat as she wondered if this might be the last time she'd see him.

If her world ended today, she didn't want her last encounter with the father of her baby to be bitter.

She pushed open the door softly, not bothering to knock. Obviously on edge, he was startled by the slight creaking sound of the opening door, immediately reaching for his wand and aiming it at the intruder. Then, realizing it was Ginny, he lowered the weapon, his shoulders dropping in relief.

"A bit jumpy, aren't you?" she said, attempting to keep her tone light. She wasn't entirely successful.

He bowed his head, avoiding looking at her but saying nothing. Her heart ached because of his actions, but she entered the small room and closed the door behind her, determined to get him to speak, if only to explain why he was avoiding her.

She wasn't entirely certain about where to begin and had a feeling that simply asking him outright wouldn't gain her any answers. She leaned heavily against the door frame, looking at him sadly, but grateful that he hadn't asked her to leave.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were so involved in this months ago?" she asked simply.

He shrugged, then turned back to the mirror, fussing with the buttons of his shirt. "It was for the best," he said. "If you knew, there was a risk that the others might find out." He said the words blandly, almost without emotion. It bothered her.

She stepped closer, deciding to press the matter. He'd gotten involved with the Death Eaters because of her, to make Lucius happy because a happier Lucius was less inclined to beat her to a bloody pulp. She was smart enough to figure that out. She felt just the tiniest bit angry because, if it was her fault that Draco was continuing to jeopardize his life, she at least deserved to know, to have some say in the matter. "But you could have let me know..."

He took as step away, looking uncomfortable, his expression turning slightly hard. "Let you know what? That I've been playing with Death Eaters for fun? Or perhaps that I was there when your friend was murdered and didn't do a thing to stop them?"

His words were cold and the tone of his voice was an echo of the schoolboy Draco that she'd once known. During their time together at the manor, she rarely saw that side of his personality, but it was still a part of him and seeing it directed toward her had become unexpected and more than a little painful. He'd done more than a few terrible things while trying to gain his aunt's trust, there was little doubt that he was ashamed of his actions. She wasn't happy about knowing the details and, perhaps if she'd known at the time, she might have tried to persuade him to stop. Perhaps he was right in not telling her, but it was irrelevant now.

"We've all been forced to do things that we'd rather not do, Draco," she said, feeling tired. The strain of her hormones, combined with the stress of knowing that everyone she loved would soon be in direct danger had drained her. And now, the young man that she loved was distancing himself from her and she desperately didn't want that.

He said nothing, instead turning back to his task of adjusting his shirt and reaching for his tie. That was when she noticed that his hands were shaking.

Unable to come up with anything eloquent to say, she softly placed her hand over his, feeling the warmth of him and enjoying the simple touch. She hoped that the action might calm him and was grateful that he made no attempt to pull away. He continued to look away, his eyes focused on his reflection, but he stopped trying to knot the tie and his hands relaxed slightly under hers. He exhaled, his shoulders slumping in resignation.

Encouraged, she gently wrapped her fingers around his hand and gave it a small tug, silently urging him to turn toward her. He gave a deep sigh and complied, albeit reluctantly.

He said nothing, waiting for her to speak, but she found herself at a loss for words. He looked down at her, his back rigid, and she was once again saddened to see the cool, distant expression in his eyes. Her mouth turned down in a frown, silently begging him to say just one thing to her.

He closed his eyes, as if it hurt him to see her so sad. When he opened them again, she caught the flash of fear before he tried to look away.

That was when she understood and the feelings tore at her heart. She was frightened for him, certainly, but he'd been showing such a confident facade that she hadn't fully realized how terrifying it would be for him to be marching straight into the lair of the beast himself. He'd been planning it for months, without anyone's knowledge and he'd done it with calculated calm. Now that the final moment had arrived, the magnitude of what he was about to do, along with the possible consequences, both good and bad, were weighing on him heavily.

There were no words that either of them could possibly say to reassure the other. He couldn't promise that he would return and saying goodbye was far too final.

Reaching up, she placed a palm softly on his cheek and stood on her toes to give him a soft kiss on the mouth. He remained achingly still, not returning the kiss, but not pulling away either. She refused to give up. Her mouth hovered over his soft lips for a long moment, waiting for him to lean forward to meet her. When he didn't, she kissed him again, pouring all of her feelings for him into it. Finally, he could resist no longer and the kiss he returned was soft, hungry and just a bit desperate. She tried not to think that it might be their last.

They stood there for several long minutes, kissing passionately. Finally, he pulled away, giving her a gentle push. "Ginny, I need to get ready now."

She felt defiant. "No. Not yet. You have at least another hour." She said the words insistently but tears came to her eyes anyway. She wiped them away furiously, frustrated at how her elevated hormones seemed to make her feel so fragile. When he tried to turn away again, she grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop. He looked at her harshly but she didn't care. She needed him and she needed to make certain that he understood that.

She wrapped her arms around him again, pulling him into a bruising, desperate kiss. He fought for a brief moment before giving in to her demand and, as soon as he wrapped his arms around her, her hands moved to reach for the fastening of his trousers, her fingers working quickly to release him.

He made a weak attempt to stop her, pushing her hands away and breaking the kiss. "Ginny, we can't. Not here."

Her fingers paused for a moment and she shook her head. "I need you. Please..."

He stood still, not stopping but not encouraging her either. She dropped to her knees, reaching into his pants to free him. For all his protest, he had still hardened due to her awkward actions and she took him into her mouth, hoping to please him or distract him or anything that would take them both away from thinking of the upcoming mission.

He groaned as her desperate mouth sucked on him, the rush of unwelcome pleasure causing him to lose his balance. He weakly leaned back against the sink while she ran her fingers along him, pleasuring him as best she could. After a few minutes, he placed his hands in her hair and pulled her off of him. She nearly sobbed.

"Not like this, Ginny," he said softly.

The harshness and anger had left his eyes, leaving her confused by his sudden change in demeanor. He guided her to stand and looked at her tenderly, his hands moving up to her face to wipe away the single tear that had formed and run down her cheek. He ran his knuckles along the edge of her jaw, his expression suddenly soft and loving and just a bit defeated. Finally, he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. When he pulled away, she found herself pouting slightly over his refusal of her offer to please him.

He placed his hands carefully on her waist and lifted her so her bum was on the edge of the sink, then looking into her eyes, his expression became apologetic. "I want to look at you," he said, his lips twisting into a small, devilish smile. Biting her lip slightly, she returned the smile awkwardly.

He kissed her again while simultaneously reaching his hands under her skirt to tug on her knickers. Pulling the item free, he began to run his hands up along her thigh, eventually cupping her bum as he leaned into her. He settled his body between her legs and kissed her deeply and passionately, causing her to whimper softly in response.

Yes, she needed him, but more than that, she needed to make certain that he went on this suicide mission knowing that he was wanted and needed and loved. It was the least she could do since she couldn't be there with him.

Finally, she pulled away from the kiss, leaning back on the counter a bit, so her baby bump wouldn't be in the way and he settled himself into her. She didn't think about having sex on the bathroom sink, in fact, she hardly noticed her surroundings at all. All that mattered was the intense look that the father of her child was giving her at that moment. There was nothing in the world but the two of them. It wasn't sex, it was intimacy.

All too soon, he closed his eyes and groaned as he released, giving her one soft lingering kiss before pulling away. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Nothing to be sorry about," she said feeling oddly shy. After all, she'd just shagged him in her parents' house, in the bathroom. It hadn't been something she would have planned. "I better let you finish getting ready..."

He nodded, but grabbed her hand, stopping her from leaving. "No matter what happens today, I want you to find a place that's safe," he said motioning to her tummy, "for the both of you."

She bit her lip and closed her eyes to keep from crying, nodding her head in agreement. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, content in the moment and she knew that she had her answer. He needed her just as badly as she needed him.

"I'm no Gryffindor, Ginny. How did I get myself into this?" he said, almost lightly, as if making a joke at the irony of his situation. He pulled away, giving her an almost cavalier smile, as if putting himself in danger was funny in some way.

She said nothing, letting him say what he needed to say. He finally shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, as if in disbelief about how he'd gotten himself into his current predicament. "I promised my mother that I'd hide away and stay safe, and I was happy with that arrangement. Now, I'm breaking that promise."

She didn't really have an answer for him. He truly did seem to have a comfortable life in his Muggle hideaway. "I don't know, but right now, I'm very much in agreement with your mother," she responded.

He shook his head, the determination once again coming to his eyes. "There's nobody else. If I don't do this, it would take years, maybe never, for someone to be allowed in that close to him."

Stepping up closer, she touched his cheek tenderly. She didn't agree. She wanted him to stay safe with her, but then she thought of why she'd been living as the wife of Lucius for the past year. What happened today was going to affect the lives of everyone she knew, possibly for the next generation. She quieted the part of her that wanted to beg him to back away from his task, because she, of all people, understood that there was something greater that drove a person to do such things. It was his moment, and she couldn't be selfish.

"Then there's your answer," she replied, speaking with a bravery that she didn't entirely feel. "We do what we feel we need to do. You've called yourself a coward in the past, but you aren't, you know." She paused to give a small smile after she saw him grimace at her words. "Gryffindors aren't any more brave, they just put the fear aside and do what they feel needs to be done."

The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. "Since you put it that way, it should be easy then, yeah?"

She smiled sadly. "Yeah."

Draco walked next to his Aunt Bellatrix, his calm demeanor a sharp contrast to her eager enthusiasm.

"Don't be so serious, dear boy," she said cheerfully, wrapping her arm around his. "This will be a day for celebration!" She leaned heavily into him, putting her mouth close to his ear and dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "The Dark Lord will be officially welcoming you back."

He felt as if he was suffocating. Bella had been practically draping herself all over him as soon as he arrived at the Lestrange mansion. He'd placed aside his fear, locking it away as best he could, but he was having a bit more difficulty dealing with his feelings for his aunt.

He'd never had cause to truly fear her in the past. She was mad, certainly, which gave him reason to tread carefully while in her presence, but she had always been an ally to some degree. Today, that would all change. She was also vindictive and cruel, and willfully doing something to provoke her wrath was an unpleasant thought.

But, the deception was something that had been bred into him. As a Slytherin, being motivated by self-interest was a fact of life. So, Draco walked up to the doors of the imposing mansion with the happy, mad witch at his side, trying to quiet his thoughts. Some level of trepidation was expected, of course, but he couldn't allow Bella to suspect the underlying reasons for his nervousness.

Bella entwined her arm with his, snuggling uncomfortably close as she stared up at him with a deliriously happy, almost dreamy expression. "This day will be memorable, Draco, my sweet."

He looked down at her, feeling something akin to pity for his aunt and her delusions. "Yes, Bella, I'm sure it will be."

She leaned her head against his shoulder, her action likely intending to be comforting in some strange way. "No need to fear, darling. The Dark Lord will be impressed by you. I've told him of how helpful you've been lately and he feels that you are ready."

Helpful. Yes, he had been helpful. He'd been involved in a number of distasteful acts over the past several months, including the kidnapping of Teddy Lupin. He also accompanied Bella during the arrest and torture of several half-blooded protesters at the Ministry and several attacks on Muggle establishments, all with the intention of gaining her trust. It had been a long few months.

As they entered the building, he watched the witch take down several security wards, memorizing each one carefully. His mission had officially begun and, as he focused his mental energy on the task at hand, he felt an usual feeling of calm settle over him, as if what he was doing wasn't entirely real.

Oblivious to his focus on her spellwork, Bella pouted, then looked at him with a deviously coy expression. "You know, it's a shame that Lucius wasn't invited. I was so looking forward to seeing the look on his face when we welcomed you back into the fold."

Draco stopped in surprise. He hadn't been expecting to hear that his father wouldn't be among the elite. In a way it was a relief, but nevertheless, concern nagged at the back of his mind. "He won't be here?"

Bella smiled up at him wickedly. "Of course not! And I think it's all the more insulting that he's not invited. He's disappointed the Dark Lord for the last time. You will take your father's place. You and I will be able to begin a new era for our little family." Her grip on his arm tightened further, as if to emphasize her point.

"We are far from establishing a dynasty, Bella."

She waved her free hand gleefully. "Not yet, my handsome, but we will. I already have several prospects for your impending marriage."

He grimaced. It was impossible to distract the witch once her mind was set on a goal. Granted, her obsession with rebuilding the Black family had worked to his advantage so far, but it was now clear that she was far from finished with her meddling.

Until now, Bella had not directly included him in her strange plans to rebuild the family line. The Dark Lord had ostracized him for his past actions, so he had been considered unsuitable for marriage by any higher ranked families. Now, Bella was expecting that to change by his reintroduction to Voldemort's elite. If anything, his aunt's words gave him further motivation to carry out his plan if only to save himself from a fate worse than death.

"I am perfectly capable of choosing my own wife," he said, somewhat shortly.

Bella looked up at him balefully, her eyes rolling in a dramatically exaggerated fashion. "I'd agree with you, Draco," she said, patting his arm condescendingly, "but your history speaks for itself. I'd rather find you a witch that's at least intelligent enough to keep herself from a ridiculously premature death."

He breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing that Bella would likely interpret his reaction as mere annoyance. Bella's casual remark indicated that she remained quite convinced of Ginny's death. It was good news.

"But just think of how much fun it will be to tell Lucius that he will be losing his place! It may just destroy him!" Bella continued, cackling with glee. He resisted the urge to cringe and found himself hoping with all his heart that Potter made his way inside or he'd be forced to take the Dark Mark and continue to play his role as a loyal follower.

Once inside, Draco was relieved when she left his side to socialize with her peers. Bella was basking in the glory of her success. The others paid him little notice beyond greeting him with polite nods, although Rookwood did check him quickly for hidden magic, since he was a newcomer to the group. It was to be expected. He carried nothing that would be deemed harmful, and smirked as he fingered a small string on the inside of his left sleeve, and a gold coin in his pocket. The objects he held would most certainly be considered harmless, Fred had assured him.

As soon as the last of the Inner Circle arrived, he quietly made his way toward the back of the room. Bella had taken up an audience among the others, gloating about how each day they became more powerful, as if fueling the excitement for Voldemort's impending arrival. She was creating an atmosphere for Draco's dramatic introduction, and it provided a perfect diversion. While Bella played to the crowd, he verified that he wasn't being watched, then moved back toward the entryway as discretely as possible.

Quickly, he removed as many wards as he'd seen Bella reset after their arrival then turned to look back into the room, watching Bella continue her theatrics. He almost smiled. It appeared the first part of his mission had been a success. He rubbed the golden coin in his pocket, the signaling device for Potter, and felt it answer by growing warm. The stage was set.

Unfortunately, his relief was short-lived. As soon as he moved to step back into the room, Severus Snape's voice interrupted his thoughts, causing him to visibly flinch. "Just a moment, Draco..."

"Yes, Professor?" he asked, forcing his voice to remain calm and even as he turned to his former mentor, hoping that Snape had failed to see his work on the wards.

"I take it you weren't planning to attend the ceremony alone this afternoon," the older man stated, his expression impassive.

Draco fought down a moment of panic, his fingers curling around his wand and wondering if he could possibly find a way to eliminate Snape before his former teacher alerted the others.

Snape said nothing, merely lifting a questioning eyebrow at him. Draco stood tall, trying to appear unaffected. Then, the older man's mouth turned into a rather irritated frown. Shaking his head in a manner that suggested he was silently calling Draco a dunderhead, he turned toward the entrance and waved his wand adeptly, muttering quiet words that Draco recognized as a ward counter-spell.

The professor then turned back to him, his expression stern, as if he were giving him a lecture. "You forgot two. It would hardly be a successful mission if your visitors were beheaded while trying to assist you."

He stared at the older man, his jaw dropping in disbelief. "I'm not sure what you are talking about, Professor," he responded, unsure of whether or not he'd heard properly.

"I'll stand in the rear. Be careful not to get yourself killed," Snape said with his typical sneer, before turning away, his cloak swirling behind him.

Draco stared after the billowing black cloak in confusion. He had either found an unexpected ally, or would be leading all of Potter's group into a trap that meant certain death. He pulled on the collar of his shirt, suddenly feeling that it was uncomfortably tight and turned back toward his aunt to await his fate.

The lighting in the room dimmed only a few minutes later, killing all conversation. Draco closed his eyes for a long moment. Snape's words had given him pause, but now there was no time to reconsider the plan. He felt the anticipation within the room rise and the others in the room turned in awe to the front. Draco steadied his thoughts, pushing all his personal emotions aside and focused on feelings of being impressed by the way the others reacted. He kept his thoughts steadily on the moment at hand, knowing that, being a newcomer, Voldemort would be quite interested in reading his thoughts.

As soon as the skeletal figure of the Dark Lord entered the room, the candles near the front brightened, as if their glow had been enhanced by the leader's mere presence. The others in the room mumbled words of praise and Draco dropped his head in reverence, calling forth feelings of respect for this man who had become so powerful. He hoped it was enough.

Voldemort looked around the room, his hands open, his wand held loosely in his hands as he greeted his minion with a semblance of benevolence. Murmurs of praise and awe resounded throughout the crowd in an almost religious manner. Draco tried to echo the same feelings, albeit tentatively.

That was when Voldemort turned his gaze on Draco and smiled at him.

"Draco!" he said, almost amiably. "We are here to celebrate your return."

"Yes, My Lord," he replied shakily. He was a coward, he knew that. He'd been happy with that. He couldn't help but feel foolish for thinking that he could possibly succeed here, yet here he was. He berated himself for allowing the feelings to come forth knowing that the Dark Lord would be well aware of them. He justified his feelings by reasoning that it was only natural to be intimidated by the man who ruled their world. Draco felt the brush of Voldemort touching his thoughts. He tried not to resist.

Voldemort merely smiled. "Now, now, Draco. No need to fear me. Bella has spoken highly of you and I want everyone know that I am a generous and forgiving ruler."

"Yes, My Lord," he replied. His surprise at the remark was genuine. He allowed himself to feel hopeful.

"Come forward."

He walked slowly toward the large ornate chair that Voldemort now occupied, his fingers playing idly with the small coin in his right pocket and the seam in his left sleeve. The feeling of each giving him comfort, although he didn't concentrate on why they did.

As he reached the front of the room, he bowed low, kneeling before the most powerful wizard in their world, just as his aunt had instructed him to do. Voldemort placed a hand on his shoulder, in almost a fatherly way, causing Draco to involuntarily cringe.

"Your mistakes were the mistakes of youth, Draco."

He nodded. Indeed, he'd made many mistakes when he was young, including those around his missions for Voldemort. He couldn't deny that.

He rubbed the coin in his hand almost out of habit to redirect his nervousness, trying not to think about why he was rubbing the coin, except that the time was right to do so. The Dark Lord could read his mind, so he left unnecessary thoughts aside. It was better that way, to keep his mind simple and clear.

The small device grew warm in his fingers, giving him comfort that he was no longer alone, but he didn't focus on why. Voldemort would consider that not being alone meant that he was no longer outcast from Voldemort's highest ranks. The thoughts remained vague enough so that the creature before him would think that it was all part of him accepting his way back into the ranks of the Death Eaters.

"Tell me then, what caused you to change your ideals?"

When Draco finally answered, he found that his words were surprisingly honest. "I value actions, not empty words from others that haven't fully earned my respect. I needed to know for myself what you were, My Lord." A half truth, but the truth nonetheless. He knew the ego of the Dark Lord would likely cause him to assume that Draco was referring to respect for Voldemort's power, not his revulsion.

Draco fully understood that if anything he said was interpreted to be a lie, he would fail. He was grateful that the line of questions left enough room for interpretation, but he didn't dwell on the fleeting thought.

At that moment, Draco realized that Voldemort wanted this to happen. That he was deliberately asking him open questions. Unwillingly, his mind pursued the thought, and he came to the conclusion that Voldemort wanted his initiation to succeed for his own political benefit. Draco had been a failure, an outcast, and now Voldemort was showing leniency.

Voldemort smiled again, a rather ghoulish expression, and spoke again. "Very good, Draco. You've figured out my reasons. That is partly why I have invited you are here. I am hoping to use your intelligence to further increase my power."

Draco once again fingered the seam of his left sleeve, waiting, keeping his mind blank about its purpose. His wand was tucked carefully inside his coat pocket, useless to him at the moment. If he drew the device, Voldemort would easily strike him dead before he could even aim it in the creature's direction. The string, however, concealed nothing of a dangerous nature. It was a toy. Rookwood had already verified that when he'd searched him for hidden magic, although he didn't bother to determine the exact type of device.

Certainly, the Dark Lord would never be threatened by a toy.

Fortunately, Voldemort had discontinued his mind reading to continue with his theatrics. He continued his questioning. "So, since you have judged me by my actions, I presume that you wish to be judged by your own?"

"Of course," Draco replied evenly. Again, his words surprisingly truthful

At that moment, a noise was heard in the back of the room. The time had arrived, because the coin in his pocket was now radiating an almost painful amount of heat. It was the moment of decision, where there would no longer be any opportunity for turning back, playing both sides, or even hoping to hide in Muggle seclusion.

Someone had gained entry to the front hall, judging by the sounds of a curse being thrown outside the door to the room. The time had come.

He fingered the string and thought of Ginny's words to him. It wasn't a question of bravery, but of necessity. He needed to do this because, if he didn't, he would be living his life as a servant of the Dark Lord. Not only did he not want that for himself, but he especially did not want it for Ginny and, more importantly, his son.

Voldemort shifted his gaze from Draco to see the cause of the commotion, giving Draco the single moment of distraction that he needed. One word came to his mind. "Enough."

As soon as Draco thought the word, the man who called himself the Dark Lord snapped his attention back in Draco's direction. "You've come to betray me!" he said, giving as much of an approximation of a sneer as his altered, snake-like features would allow.

Before he could aim his wand in Draco's direction, the blond felt his fingers wrap firmly around the string in his left sleeve, tugging on it with much more force than was necessary. Pointing his arm at Voldemort, he felt the small device release. Without waiting to see if the toy had done its job, Draco then dug his hand into his inside pocket for his wand, hoping that, at the very least, if it didn't work, it would buy him the time to draw his own weapon to defend himself.

When he looked up, he might have laughed if the situation wasn't so extremely dire. Voldemort stood in front of him, bound head to toe by a fake spiderweb, a simple prank that had been recently developed and provided to him by Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. The fibers of a simple toy now bound the most powerful and evil wizard in history as quickly and thoroughly as any binding curse. It wouldn't last long, but it would certainly delay Voldemort's ability to kill him at close range or, at the very least, delay an escape.

He dearly hoped that he lived long enough to share the image with the toy's creators but he had no time to dwell on the absurdity of the sight. Voldmort still held his wand, although his hand was immobilized by the web and Draco was quite certain that, once he overcame his initial surprise, Voldemort would be able to easily escape or use wandless magic against him.

Seeing Voldemort's immobilized hand clasping his wand in an attempt to aim it effectively, he did the only thing that seemed practical. He reached forward and yanked the item free, tossing it aside. He then raised his own wand at the creature with the desperate intention of striking a curse that would permanently end the reign of the Dark Lord.

Unfortunately, as he raised his arm, aiming it at Voldemort, a curse flew past him, barely missing his head. It was so close, in fact, that he could smell his own singed hair. Knowing he was an open target, he dove behind the ornate chair that Voldemort had used earlier, using the bound Dark Lord and the chair as cover against yet another curse that had been flung toward him. As he turned and ducked away from the second curse, his eyes darted around the room, trying to identify his attacker.

He needed Potter. Even bound and relatively helpless, only Potter could destroy the creature permanently. All he could do was keep Voldemort from escaping until the others arrived but, to his dismay, the chair that sheltered him also blocked him from casting a direct curse at snake-like man. Stepping out would be suicide, so he remained where he was, hoping that the web would contain the Dark Lord long enough for help to arrive.

When he was able to peer out from behind the chair, the sight that greeted him was a welcome one. Mayhem had erupted in the back of the room and Draco identified at least a dozen members of the Order of the Phoenix storming in. Flashes of spells lighting the area, their presence assuring Draco that he was no longer alone.

He had little time to watch the battle but his brief glimpse did allow him to see Snape. The sight of the man in the black cape left him speechless. His former teacher had stayed in the back of the room, as he said he would, and was now providing cover for those who were entering, much to the surprise of members of both sides of the battle.

Potter had gained entrance, finally, and was with his faithful companions, Granger and Weasley, making their way toward him. They stood together, defending each other with a practiced ease, as if they'd done this many times before, but Potter clearly had only a single goal in mind as he marched steadily forward, almost recklessly disregarding the curses flying around him.

Unfortunately, that recklessness cost Potter dearly. Draco saw the attack before they did, rising to give a shout, but too late. Weasley heard him in time to block the curse from striking Potter, but lost concentration and fell to a second curse from another direction only moments later. Following the curse back to its source, Draco caught the hateful glare of Augustus Rookwood, who paused a moment to smile as Weasley fell, then raised his wand to shoot Potter in the back.

The action was never completed because, at that moment, Rookwood was literally disintegrated by a particularly vicious curse from the wand of Severus Snape. It seemed rather apparent to Draco that the Professor clearly had some issues that he needed to resolve with his former colleagues.

Suppressing a smile at that last thought, he looked back to Voldemort, who remained bound, but was now loosening the strings of the web and had managed to summon his wand closer to him. The device was nearly in his grasp and Draco surmised that Voldemort would be able to free himself soon enough.

Unfortunately, a clear shot to the bound man was still impossible. Knowing he needed to act quickly to prevent the Dark Lord from escaping, Draco scanned the room, looking for any indication of a threat. He was almost unsurprised when he locked eyes with Bellatrix Lestrange as she glared at him with open and utter hatred. She'd managed to finish the unlucky soul who had been battling with her and was now marching steadily toward him, her eyes glittering with fury.

Draco's job was to prevent Voldemort from escaping before Potter could reach them, but it was now a gamble to see if Potter or Bellatrix would reach him first. Worse than that, Voldemort was nearly free of his meddlesome toy bonds. If something didn't happen quickly, he'd likely be targeted by both Voldemort and his aunt, two of the most powerful and evil wizards of his time.

He was in deep trouble.

He moved away from the ornate chair, hoping to at least cast a binding spell on Voldemort to hinder him further, but Bellatrix now drew his full attention. She shot a curse at him which he barely managed to deflect and then registered horror in his aunt's eyes as the diverted curse struck only inches from the bound Voldemort. It was a small victory. Bella's mistake caused her to pause her attack and the extra moments gave Potter time to reach front of the room to join him. Voldemort was now Potter's problem, giving Draco the chance to focus fully on his aunt, knowing that the Dark Lord would soon be free of the childish prank that had immobilized him.

Bella snarled and her expression was murderous as she steadily stalked toward him. This woman was possibly more cruel than Voldemort himself and he was quite certain that his end at her hand would be tortuously slow and painful. While he was quite a capable wizard, she was without a doubt one of the most powerful people in the room and, more importantly, he lacked her experience. All he could do was hope to fend off the attack as long as possible.

Somewhere to his left, he caught movement as Voldemort freed himself and then flashes of light as a duel began. He could only assume that it was Potter. Time slowed and his world seemed to shrink to only himself and Bella, as he battled for his life, keeping his aunt distracted from defending her Dark Lord.

He barely had time to think. Bella shot one deadly curse after another at him. Each one promising a slow, painful death if he failed to deflect it, but some how he did. He was unable to attack much, because Bella barely paused for breath, stepping toward Voldemort with each curse that she uttered.

Draco matched each step in a deadly dance, keeping himself between Bella and Potter, protecting the dark-haired wizard that he'd hated for most of his life. Weasley had fallen and Granger was nowhere in sight, so the duty fell to him to help Potter finish his task. He didn't have time to question the sanity of his action.

He didn't see the moment that Voldemort fell, mostly because it happened behind him, but he knew the instant it occurred. In that moment, Bella's expression turned from hateful fury as she fought him to disbelief and horror. Her wand hand dropped limply to her side and she screamed, her eyes transfixed on a spot behind him.

He took the moment of distraction to duck to the side, once again taking cover behind the chair that Voldemort had used earlier and caught sight of Potter, looking slightly bloodied and shocked, standing over the prone form of Voldemort.

In an almost surreal moment, the entire room became silent as each person became aware of what had happened. Bella stood unnervingly still for a long moment as she stared into the sightless eyes of her dead Lord, her mouth twisting in a hideous grimace.

He soon regretted that he failed to use that moment of distraction to finish the mad witch, because, with the speed of a snake striking, she suddenly reanimated, pointing her wand toward Potter.

"How dare you!" she screamed. A curse began to leave her lips, but was only half formed when Draco cast a spell in her direction. It should have immobilized her, but his aim was off slightly. Instead of stopping her, the curse knocked her off her feet. She slammed against the wall, her body obscured by others in the room, preventing Draco from immediately firing again.

The shock over the death of Voldemort left his followers disorganized. Many only were looking to escape, while others became desperately bold. Draco was forced to turn away from his aunt and fight other Death Eaters, using the knowledge Ginny had provided to save himself from more than one dirty tactic.

After dispatching Constance McNair, he looked about the room to locate his mad aunt. Death Eaters were now fighting for their lives, but they were quickly becoming outnumbered. Bella now stood out among the crowd.

She had begun cursing every living creature in range of her wand, regardless of which side they were on. Draco caught sight of her once again working her way across the room toward him. Potter remained nearby, guarding his back, but as the mayhem continued, they became separated. Now, without her Dark Lord, Draco's wayward aunt was clearly set on vengeance.

As the battle waned, Bella remained the only one who seemed intent on continuing the fight. Order members were quickly becoming involved in immobilizing remaining Death Eaters and tending to the wounded. Bella ignored them, blasting aside anything or anyone in her path on her way toward Draco. He prepared himself for the worst.

Draco glanced to his right and caught sight of Remus Lupin, now standing at his side, also training his wand on the mad witch. Surprisingly, she stopped, tilted her head to the side and looked at the pair of unlikely allies. Her face was disturbingly calm and cold.

"Well, isn't this just the pretty pair," she said hatefully. Glancing quickly from one man to the other, her gaze rested on Lupin. Then, her mouth twisted into a wicked smile. "No need to fear, my darlings," she said, her voice dropping to a playful tone, still staring intently at the former teacher, "Vengeance will be mine." Her eyes gleamed with wicked mischief as she looked back to Draco and then disappeared with a disturbingly loud pop.

The two men looked at each other in confusion. The rest of the room was almost quiet. The battle had ended and the work of tending to the wounded had begun. Several had surrounded Potter and the body of Voldemort, beginning to celebrate their victory, completely oblivious to what had just transpired. But Bella's last words kept Draco and Lupin rooted to their spot.

Draco turned to Lupin in confusion. "What could she mean by that?" he asked.

"Does she know about Ginny? Maybe she went to the Burrow," the older man speculated.

"No", Draco replied, looking between Lupin and the spot where his aunt last stood. "She made remarks to me when we came in. She still believes Ginny's dead. She looked at you..." he said, looking at Lupin. His mouth dropped open as he realized that she would strike where it would cause the most horrible kind of pain.

"Teddy!" they stated in unison.

The two stared at each other for several seconds in shock and realization. Finally, Lupin, panic evident on his face asked, "Do you know where she's keeping him?"

"She returned to living at the Lestrange Manor after Ginny's accident last week," Draco replied. "I saw him there when I met with Bella this morning."

The two men stared at each other for only a split second, giving silent agreement before raising their wands to follow Bellatrix Lestrange, hoping that they weren't too late.

The Lestrange Manor was near Diagon Alley. It was a large, dark, Gothic building that was situated conveniently close to Knocturn Alley and overlooked a Magical public park. When they arrived, the building seemed disturbingly silent.

The two men approached the front door cautiously, both expecting some sort of ward or attack to stop them. It was a surprise when none came. In fact, it was extremely strange that no glimmer of magic threatened them in any way. It was so quiet, in fact, that by the time they reached the door, they both felt somewhat shocked.

"She's not here," Lupin said, sounding defeated.

Ignoring the other man's statement, Draco pounded on the front door, hoping that they were wrong in their interpretation of Bella's threat. But both knew that it was merely wishful thinking. Bella wanted them to follow, or she wouldn't have said anything to them. It wasn't like the witch to disappear quietly.

There was no answer, not even from a lowly house elf.

Draco pounded again, and shouted at the door for good measure, but still, the house remained silent and still. Clearly, no one was home. After several minutes, Lupin pulled his arm away. "She's not here," the older man said again, but more firmly.

Running his hands through his hair in frustration, Draco looked past the other man and down the street, trying to come up with some other meaning for Bella's remark. Unfortunately, little else made sense. The only thing that had been clear was that she wanted the battle to continue, but on her own terms. It was up to them to find her. He searched his memories frantically trying to think of where his insane aunt might have gone.

He finally gave up, looking up to Lupin to see that the other man was focused on a spot behind him. He turned to see what had captivated the older man's attention to see the magical park that was located a short distance down the street. Lupin seemed transfixed on the entrance to the area.

"Ginny said the nanny takes him for walks in the afternoon," Lupin said quietly, almost to himself.

The two men looked at each other, came to a silent decision, and then turned and ran in unison toward the park.

The Magical park outside of Diagon Alley was a pleasant place, filled with stone paths, a petting zoo, and various play equipment. The day was still brisk, but rather pleasant for late January, making it an ideal day to be outside. The two wizards passed several families during their frantic journey to the park, solidifying their assumption that the nanny might also be taking advantage of the unusually fine winter weather.

Standing at the entrance, Lupin and Draco took in the surroundings. It was a fairly large area, filled with numerous trees and paths, several of which led up along a small but steep hill, each path lined with benches and statues and low stone walls, giving the area a comfortable, welcoming atmosphere.

"There's no guarantee that she's here," Lupin said.

"No, but even if she isn't, it's probable that your son's here and it's worth finding him."

"Absolutely," Lupin agreed. "Best to split up then, I'll take the path to the left and circle around the perimeter of the park."

"We'll meet a the top of the hill then," Draco confirmed. With a nod, he turned and turned to the right, following along the low stone wall that bordered the path along the edge of the hill, giving a lovely view on his right as the terrain rose above the surrounding area. He ignored the scenery, concentrating on every path, hedge, and movement on his left. The afternoon was waning and the park was emptying as the temperature began to drop, making Draco grateful that, if Bella chose to continue her fight there, at least there would be few, if any, innocent bystanders.

As he jogged along the path, searching along every side path and sheltered spot along the way, he had time to think for the first time since the battle began. He desperately hoped that they'd been wrong in their assumption that Bella intended to harm the toddler. However, he was quite certain, knowing his aunt, that she wouldn't hesitate to use the child as bait. The mad witch had been clearly outnumbered back at the Rookwood manor by the end of the battle, so, in order to improve her odds, she needed to draw them away, and threatening a child was certainly an effective means.

Draco ran up the hill, finding nothing along the way except a handful of visitors. He dearly hoped that Lupin was having better luck.

The path widened as he reached the top of the rise, and he entered into a well-maintained garden area. On his right was a picturesque view of the countryside and the garden was arranged to take advantage of the lovely scene, the low stone wall curving out along the edge to separate the path from a steep drop. The area to his left was filled with hedge rows and the usual flowering shrubs, now dormant for the winter. It was a tranquil place, but that did nothing to calm Draco's trepidation.

And that was when he found them. Teddy and his nanny walking toward him, the child chatting happily as the pair were preparing to leave the hilltop garden.

Bellatrix was nowhere in sight and, unable to fully believe his luck, he gave an audible gasp in relief and nearly tripped over one of the smaller stone ornaments along the path. He saw the nanny look up at him in surprise, but before he could open his mouth to say anything, the sound of Bella's laughter interrupted.

"Did you think you managed to win this little race, darling?" she said, her voice triumphant.

He froze, his wand drawn, as Bella stepped out from behind a hedge row. She smiled at him, toying with her crooked wand casually as she glanced over at the nanny and child. "How could you imagine that I wouldn't want an audience for this little show? Of course, I was going to wait for you, my boy."

The nanny looked at the newcomers in confusion, pulling the child to the side of the path, away from the wall, sensing something was dangerous about the situation. Bella's steps were calculated, as she casually maneuvered herself toward the low wall, circling around and causing the nanny to unconsciously back into a corner of the garden. The pair were trapped.

At that moment, Lupin appeared on the far side of the garden path, causing the entire group to look in his direction. He stopped short, taking in the scene before him, his expression nothing short of distraught.

Bella laughed. "Perfect! The wolf has arrived as well. The more the merrier."

Lupin cringed at the sound of her voice and took a tentative step in the direction of his son, but Bella raised her wand threateningly. He stopped, visibly swallowing hard, but other than that, he appeared calm and ready to fight. Draco realized, for the first time, that he truly had come to respect the man.

With two attackers, Bella backed toward the wall, preventing either of her opponents from circling behind her. She appeared confident.

Not knowing how loyal the nanny was toward her employer, Draco could only hope to buy time for Lupin to move to a better position. Once again, he had to reject his fear and offer himself as a distraction to buy time until one of them could come up with a plan.

"What are you thinking Bella?" Draco asked, hoping that Bella might at least want to talk or taunt them before striking.

She sneered at him, as if he were something foul, but somehow, the expression didn't affect him as much as it had in the past when he'd seen her look upon others the same way. Before, she had the power of Voldemort and an army of Death Eaters to solidify her threats. Now, she was simply a single, insane witch whose cause had been defeated. She was desperate, and desperate people made mistakes.

"I'm thinking that I'll be back in Azkaban soon enough thanks to your traitorous actions, boy," she said with venom. "But you'll have to catch me first, and until you do, I intend to continue the glorious mission of the Dark Lord in whatever way that I can."

He tried to think of something that might make sense to her, anything that might give him and Lupin an opening or distraction. The only good thing was that Bella hadn't yet acted on her threat. It wasn't her way to do things quietly, she wanted the attention. She wanted to cause pain because killing all of them wouldn't bring back her dead Lord. The only other thing that he'd ever seen hold her passion was her desire to rebuild the House of Black.

"Think Bella," he said, desperately hoping to persuade her. "There was no future for us following the Dark Lord. There never was. Think of the Black family, even Regulus saw that..."

Her eyes blazed with renewed fury, and he realized he'd chosen the wrong words.

"Sirius and Regulus deserved to die for their traitorous ways!" she shouted, her voice shrill with unrestrained emotion. "And now you, Draco! How dare you ally yourself with this FILTH!" she shrieked, pointing at Lupin, then raising her wand in the direction of Teddy.

Both men froze in fear.

She glared hatefully at Draco. "I thought so much better of you. You had so much promise as a child," she spat. "I would rather end the Toujours Pur line of Black here and now rather than see it continued in this disgraceful decline."

Lupin had started taking a step to his right, edging closer toward his son while Bella's attention was fully directed at Draco.

"I'm doing what's best for me, Bella. You understand that," Draco said, his voice trying to sound reasonable. "His rule was unsustainable. It was only a matter of time and I needed to preserve our future." His argument was weak, but it was the only thing that he could think of that might give her some reason to pause.

"He was on the verge of being invincible!" she screamed back at him, her eyes wild, no indication of reason or sanity remaining. "You fool! You've destroyed us!"

Lupin had moved closer but not close enough. Bellatrix spun wildly, aiming her wand at Teddy, who stood by the hedge, his eyes wide with fear as he watched the adults argue.

"You could have had everything, Draco. The Dark Lord would have given you everything you could ever want."

Draco's expression turned to pity, "He took my mother, Bella. Would he have been able to give her back?"

"How dare you question his reasons! For the good of us all, sacrifices must be made!"

In that instant, Bella shouted a deadly curse in the direction of the child, her voice ragged with pain and vengeance.

Draco barely recognized the sound of Lupin screaming, "Nooo!" in that same instant. He caught a glimpse of motion as the older man sprinted toward the toddler, knowing that he was too far away to be of any use. But he didn't look to see the curse hit its small target.

Instead, he was completely focused on his aunt, who, after shooting the curse, began turning toward him with the same evil intent. Draco used that moment to his advantage and aimed his wand at his aunt, shouting "Stupify!" with far more venom than was required. He watched her furious glare freeze in place for a brief instant before the force of the curse tossed her body backwards over the stone wall.

Not wanting to lose sight of the unpredictable witch for even an instant, Draco raced forward to look over the wall. He peered over the edge just in time to see her stiffened body land on the rocks thirty feet below making a sickening crack as it struck, then silence. The scene was surreal and he stared at her for what seemed like an eternity, uncertain of what to do. The fall was quite sufficient to kill any normal person but he'd long ago learned that Bellatrix Black Lestrange was anything but normal. Watching the gory sight in fascination, he saw no movement, giving Draco reason to believe that she might truly be dead.

He might have stayed there for longer, but the sound of Remus Lupin sobbing made him turn from the bloody heap that he'd once recognized as his aunt. He paused, attempting to brace himself for the worst before his gaze slowly moving toward the location of the sound, knowing that he didn't want to see the results of Bella's final curse.

With an overwhelming dread, he slowly lifted his eyes to see what had become of little Teddy. The sight that greeted him caused him to drop limply to his knees, as if there was no more strength in his legs to allow him to remain standing.

Remus Lupin was in front of him, tears shamelessly falling down his face also on his knees before a crumpled heap of clothing. He was in the process of pulling the crying toddler from underneath the lifeless body of his nanny. The young witch had been standing by so placidly that Bella had failed to notice or care that she might play a part in the drama that unfolded. In that last fateful moment, the witch had committed the most selfless act imaginable, an act that Bella's twisted mind wouldn't have been capable of anticipating. She had been standing close enough to throw herself between Bella's last curse and the child.

The sight was overwhelmingly tragic, softened only by the emotion of a father being reunited with his son. Draco could only stare numbly, feeling a deep sense of sorrow over the nanny's death, despite the fact that he'd never even spoken to her.

Both father and son were crying uncontrollably. Remus in obvious relief and Teddy quite clearly in fear and confusion. As the older man pulled the little one into his arms, shielding the child as best he could, he looked over at the body of the woman who had saved his son then back up to Draco.

There were no words that could possibly be said. It was over.


	25. Chapter 25 New Beginning

Ginny skipped down the stairs, or at least as close to skipping as her five months pregnant body would allow safely on the uneven stairs in the Burrow.

It had been nearly three weeks since the fall of Voldemort and it seemed that the modified skipping had almost become part of her daily routine, a routine that, although extraordinarily dull, made her happy.

Yes, she was happy. Happy that Voldemort had been defeated, happy that Teddy had been returned safely home, and happy that all her family had survived the final battle, although Ron had been injured and was currently recovering at St. Mungo's. She was happy that, for the first time, she could consider the possibility that her child wouldn't be raised to be a Death Eater.

Every day brought news about the progress of rebuilding of the Ministry, the trials of the Death Eaters that had survived, and the reformations within the government to remove the horrendous laws that Voldemort had put in place. For the first time in years, the future was looking hopeful.

But it was not all good news. Ginny still remained in seclusion. The magical contract that bound her to Lucius was still valid and the Wizengamot had its hands quite full with far more serious matters than to address her personal issue. She was certain that once Lucius was put on trial, matters would work out on their own. After all, it only seemed logical to conclude that once Lucius was sentenced for his part in Voldemort's sham of a government that her marriage contract could be legally terminated. Until then, only her family and closest friends would know that she was still alive.

She pushed the thoughts of her marriage aside for the moment, refusing to let it spoil her overall happiness. Instead, she enjoyed the cold winter days while she waited for the world to settle back into some semblance of normalcy.

Her year away had given her a vastly new perspective on what was important in her life and the mundane household chores that she once detested had recently become a welcome distraction.

"Mum, did you notice where I left the blue dress?" she called out to her mother.

"The one we were working yesterday?" came her mother's reply from the kitchen.

"Yes, Mum," she called back cheerfully.

"I finally found the right tailoring charm to fix the waistline. It's in with the clean laundry now."

Ginny smiled and began rummaging through the pile of clothing. She and her mother had recently taken to altering the used Muggle clothing that Hermione had acquired and the daily task brought back memories of childhood, when altering used clothing had once been a dreaded chore. How things had changed. Now, she found it fun to cast various spells to experiment with resizing the things and she and her mother shared more than one laugh over unexpected results.

Holding the blue dress against herself, she decided that it would be the item she would wear for dinner that day. She gave a soft sigh at the thought of choosing her own clothing and her mind flickered back to the beautiful garments that she'd worn over the past year. They'd been the finest the money could buy, and she suddenly realized that she didn't miss them in the least.

"Did you read the Prophet yet today, Ginny?" her mother asked as she walked into the room with another armload of laundry, preparing to cast ironing spells on the lot.

Ginny pulled a towel from the pile to begin folding. She and her mother had become closer over the past few weeks, talking more than they had in years. Much of their conversation was about the baby and current events. Ginny was sure that, eventually, her mother's attention might become smothering but, for the moment, Ginny simply cherished making up for their time apart.

"I did. There was another article about Veronique," she said.

"Yes, the poor dear," her mother replied. "Did you know her well?"

Ginny sighed sadly at the memory of the quiet witch. "No, I'm afraid not. She never spoke about her personal life and I can't say I blame her. She probably couldn't risk Bella suspecting that she was anything but loyal."

Veronique Gilbert, Teddy's former nanny, had become a heroine and a household name due to her sacrifice in the final battle. As soon as word spread that she'd given her life to save an innocent child, newspaper reporters descended on the story like a swarm of locusts. The papers had covered her sacrifice and her life extensively and, as more became known about the witch, she became an even more sympathetic figure. Her tragic death was only the end of an even more tragic story to which many living in Voldemort's New Regime could relate.

"They confirmed that her husband was killed when Voldemort's people took over the Ministry. They say that she was a half-blood, but lied to get the job with the Lestrange people," Molly continued.

Ginny shook her head. As the facts about the woman surfaced in the papers, she felt a small amount of guilt that she had never gotten to know the nanny better. "I had no idea. Today's story reported that she was secretly sending money to support her parents, even though she'd publicly shunned them after she declared her loyalty to Voldemort's cause."

"Such a loss..." Molly concluded. "It seems to be all people are talking about these days."

A long silence filled the air as the two women worked. Eager to change the uncomfortable conversation, Ginny stated, "I was thinking of wearing the blue dress at dinner tonight."

Her mother smiled in return. "I think he'll like that very much."

Ginny blushed at her mother's insinuation that she was wearing the dress for Draco, although it was quite true. He'd become a nightly visitor at dinner ever since Voldemort's fall and her mother was well aware of the fact that Ginny very much enjoyed his attention. After the battle, he had become something of a hero alongside Harry, but had, for some reason, returned to his Muggle life to hide from the publicity. After finishing his work each day, he would join the Weasleys for dinner, and Ginny eagerly looked forward to his arrival each evening.

When the afternoon sun began to wane, Ginny began to anxiously glance at the clock and by the time the weak winter sun finally began to set, she rushed upstairs to put on her prettiest creation in preparation for everyone to come home from their workday.

This day was no different as she finished her modified skip down the stairs and entered the kitchen just as the blond young man arrived, his cheeks still rosy from the winter chill. He handed over the customary bag of groceries to her mother, receiving a cheerful kiss on the cheek from the older witch.

He looked so different, yet so the same. His hair was longer and a bit untidy and, frequently, he didn't bother to change it back from the light brown he'd adopted while he stayed among his Muggle coworkers. But the change wasn't so much in his physical appearance as it was in his overall bearing. He was more casual, more relaxed. He laughed more readily. She saw the same happiness that she felt reflected in his eyes.

She smoothed her dress and smiled flirtatiously at him, feeling much like a schoolgirl. Despite all that she'd been through in the past year, there was a feeling of innocence between them now that she was living with her parents again. His arrival each evening held a feeling of courtship about it.

"Ginny, dear, could you put these away?" her mother directed, pointing to the grocery bag as she returned to the task of basting the roast that was in the oven.

Ginny merely smiled and began the small chore, enjoying the peaceful routine, feeling as if she would always cherish this time of her life. As had become typical, Draco shared something of his day and got his daily cooking lesson from Molly while they waited for the rest of the family and extended family to arrive and share the latest news from the Ministry.

Every day, there was news about the surviving members of Voldemort's Inner Circle and how they were being held accountable for the crimes they'd committed while Voldemort was in power. Every day, she felt she was one step closer to true freedom.

Unfortunately, she had very little time alone with Draco due to all the activity in the house each night. It was a busy time for everyone, but the pair still managed to share short conversations and glances across the dinner table, giving her hope that she might one day be able to openly be with him after her marriage contract was legally dissolved.

Ginny busied herself with setting the table, blushing as the young man smiled at her impishly. She felt like a schoolgirl, flirting with her date behind her mother's back, with the bad times of the past year nearly forgotten.

She tried to keep from looking too disappointed when Harry and Hermione arrived only a few minutes later, interrupting her time with Draco, as seemed to happen every evening. It was becoming quite annoying. Nevertheless, she dismissed the negative thought, reminding herself that once the excitement of the new government began to calm down, and she was free of her marriage contract, there would be less commotion in the house.

She gave Draco an apologetic look as she turned to the newcomers, greeting both with a hug. "How is Ron doing today?" Ginny asked the pair.

"He's getting better," Hermione responded, smiling. "The burns are almost fully healed, although it's driving him absolutely mad because the new skin is starting to itch. The healers say he should be able to come home in another day or two."

Ginny laughed, picturing Ron's discomfort. "I wish I could go visit him."

"Oh, it's best that you don't," Harry added, his mood quite jovial as he greeted Mrs. Weasley warmly, still talking to Ginny. "He's still going on about how you nicked his chess set and now he has to suffer from boredom."

She rolled her eyes in amusement. Ron had sent several owls, pestering her endlessly about the missing chess set, now long lost in a fireplace at Malfoy Manor. "I told him I'd buy him another, just as soon as I can get a job."

"Speaking of jobs," Harry said, seating himself at the table. "I heard that Snape is looking to start a Potions shop. He was inquiring about the paperwork while he was at the Ministry this morning." He picked up a fork and directed it at Draco. "Your name was mentioned."

Draco raised his eyebrows, obviously annoyed that Harry was questioning his involvement. Despite their recent allegiance, the two wizards remained adversarial toward each other. Harry remained suspicious of the blond, while Draco enjoyed finding ways to irritate his old rival.

"I've been asked to invest some galleons and join him in a partnership," Draco said shortly, his irritation showing at Harry's prying question. The blond then leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow at his former rival, as if daring him to pursue the matter.

They were posturing, as they tended to do frequently and Ginny rolled her eyes in annoyance. She doubted the pair would ever truly get along but she was grateful that they could at least sit in the same room together and attempt to be civil.

"Really?" Ginny asked to redirect the conversation. "I didn't know you were interested in a Potions shop."

Draco's sour expression lifted almost immediately as his gaze shifted from Harry to her, in a way it was rather amusing to watch. "I still have the galleons I saved before I moved out. When Snape asked me to partner with him, it seemed to be as good an investment as any."

Hermione gave a snort, which she politely tried to hide behind her hand. It didn't work, and all eyes at the table turned to her. She attempted to look apologetic. "Sorry, I just can't imagine anyone willing spending that much time with him."

Draco actually smiled at the remark. "I'm not. That's why I'm only investing in the place. I like the man well enough, but even I have my limits."

His response brought a smile and the group shared a light laugh over the thought of the dour Potions Master. Respected or not, Snape remained his abrasive self, even to Draco, who had been his favorite student. The small group shared stories for a bit, recounting Snape's unexpected role in the final battle. Ginny joined in happily, the light conversation making her feel content.

A few minutes later, they were interrupted by the arrival of Arthur Weasley. Newly reappointed to his job at the Ministry, he typically came home with good news about the day's events, and Ginny loved seeing him smile when he walked in each night. Still in a cheerful mood, she jumped up from the table to greet her father with a hug but was surprised that, unlike previous days, he failed to return it.

When she stepped back, her smile faltered when she noticed that her father's expression was uncharacteristically sad.

Molly had turned to greet her husband and recognized immediately that he was the bearer of bad news. "What's wrong, Arthur?"

He looked at his wife, then back to Ginny, appearing reluctant to speak. Drawing a deep breath, he said, "The past few weeks have been busy. The Ministry's been bartering favors again."

"Well, isn't that just the way of things," Molly said with contempt borne from years of dealing with the bureaucracy surrounding her husband's line of work. "What did they do this time?"

Again, Arthur looked to his wife, then to Ginny. His eyes rested on his daughter and his expression saddened even further. "Lucius Malfoy won't be put on trial. He's managed to buy his way out."

Every jaw in the room dropped in unison and Ginny remained standing in front of her father, still as a statue, as if she couldn't quite comprehend what she'd just heard. After the initial shock wore off, she shook her head, speaking slowly. "Dad, I don't understand."

The older man placed his hand on his daughter's shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. "The Ministry is trying to put aside as many differences as quickly and quietly as possible," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "They don't want to turn this into a some sort of inquisition, so to maintain some semblance of fairness, they decided to reduce the number of trials to only the worst offenders."

Ginny stared at her father, as if still not fully comprehending his words, so he continued. "Basically, that has been interpreted to mean that if they weren't in the room with Voldemort when he was overthrown, then there's room for negotiation. Malfoy money came into play and Lucius effectively purchased enough favor to earn himself a pardon."

She said nothing in response, then dropped heavily into the nearest chair, her face pale, her expression blank with shock.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," her father said, his voice full of raw emotion.

Harry rose from his place, clearly showing disbelief. "But, Mr. Weasley, I was there when they made the lists. We know he was allied with Voldemort. How?"

Arthur looked about the room apologetically and continued his explanation reluctantly. "The Ministry can't risk pursuing every person who allied themselves with Voldemort's government. If they did, it would likely send too many innocents to jail and we'd risk having another generation touting words of injustice. Public opinion is being heavily swayed because of what happened with Teddy."

"What does Teddy have to do with it?" Draco asked, his voice sounding harsh.

"Not Teddy, Veronique," Arthur explained. "Since her story was published, more decent people have come forward with similar stories of declaring false allegiance to Voldemort out of sheer necessity. Unfortunately, it's created an enormous loophole, and I'm afraid that several guilty parties are using the public sympathy to their advantage."

The older man took a deep breath, looking about the room before continuing. "The Ministry is dropping charges against anyone who has credible reason to have been coerced or forced into aligning themselves with Voldemort's government and, unfortunately, Lucius falls under that ruling."

"But Lucius was one of his Inner Circle. He has the Dark Mark!"

Arthur sighed heavily, looking sad and quite a bit older as he spoke to his distraught daughter. "But he wasn't in the room with the rest of Voldemort's closest followers when we arrived, which cast some doubt to his loyalty. His wife was murdered by Voldemort because he felt that they were too soft, a fact that has been well-documented and verified." His voice dropped to a cracked whisper as he repeated, "I'm so sorry, Ginny. There was nothing I could do to change their decision."

She looked about the room, as if to find some sort of answer, but only saw similar expressions of shock and dismay. Her gaze settled on Draco, whose expression showed only disbelief. Lucius would not be tried with the others. He wouldn't be going to Azkaban for his crimes. She wouldn't be able to return to a normal life.

She looked back up to her father, her mind working furiously to find another solution. "I could testify against him. I've seen his involvement. He was working on some horrible potion with Rodolphus Lestrange. He... he..." She stopped, unable to speak about how he'd hurt her. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. The sight was beyond pitiful, and it was clear that it was breaking her father's heart.

Draco broke the uncomfortable silence, his expression showing determination. "I could testify. Ginny shouldn't have to."

Arthur looked over at the younger man and drew another deep breath of resignation. "A disowned heir? It wouldn't be given full consideration. Regardless of your role in the final battle, it would only appear that you are testifying for your own self-interest, and I'd rather not let Ginny be brought out in the open because we all know that it's best if he doesn't know she's alive."

Draco dropped his fist on the table, showing no small amount of frustration. Ginny's own feelings of shock were slowly being replaced with a rising panic as she processed the meaning of her father's words.

"But what about the contract? Can it still be dissolved?" Harry asked. His voice was laced with anger, and the righteous anger of every individual in the room was almost palpable.

Arthur shook his head again, looking as if he'd aged ten years in the past few minutes. "I spoke with Kingsley earlier about that and he says that it's highly unlikely. If she'd signed under duress, there would be some chance, but she didn't. She approached Lucius. If anything, it could be interpreted to appear that she defaulted on her end of the bargain by attempting to change the terms without valid reason."

He turned back to his daughter. "He's twisted this, Ginny. He's managed to come out as a hero for rescuing you and saving your brothers. He's made it appear that he lost his place in Voldemort's ranks for opposing him and he even used the fire on his estate to give the impression that Voldemort was attacking him. He says there's evidence of sabotage."

"But there was sabotage. I lit the damn fire!" Draco responded, his voice uncharacteristically emotional with frustration. Ginny jumped, surprised by the outburst.

She partially expected her father's temper to flare as well, but his reaction was far more disturbing. He merely looked over at Draco and nodded in agreement. Worse, he remained calm, his voice resigned, which silently told her that he'd likely already spent his anger on others at the Ministry. It was the sound of defeat.

"Which worked in his favor, because his claim is true. They just can't prove who lit it, but he's given more than enough information to cast doubt, and without a full trial, the truth won't be brought out. There's nothing we can do."

The long silence that followed was almost unbearable but nobody in the room seemed to have any idea of what to say to the distraught girl. Finally, Draco spoke again, his anger still apparent in the roughness of his voice. "She can't stay here. You won't be able to keep her hidden forever. He'll find out about her eventually."

Harry didn't seem to agree, moving to stand next to Ginny and put a protective hand on her shoulder. "So what if he does? It's a free country again. He can't force her to go back to him against her will."

"Yes, he can," she said miserably, staring at the floor.

Harry turned to her, looking confused by her remark. "What are you talking about?" he demanded.

Draco rolled his eyes, echoing his schoolboy annoyance in regards to the dark-haired wizard. "What she's saying, Potter, is that we both know that money still buys power. We've lived with it long enough to understand the way it works. My father doesn't need to be the one to do the dirty work. He can hire people who would kidnap or kill her. Or worse, kidnap the baby and find a legal means to gain custody as her husband."

Harry's face turned red with anger, glaring at the blond. "But he can't do things like that. That's what we were fighting against!"

"No, Harry," Arthur interrupted, resignation clear in his voice, causing Harry to look toward the older man almost helplessly. "They're right. We were fighting against a tyrant. Government is still government and it's always going to have its problems. It's ugly, but that's the way it is."

Ginny drew a deep, shuddering breath. She wasn't crying, but it was clear that the conversation wasn't giving her any comfort.

Hermione broke in, "It's all right, Ginny. We can bring you to visit my parents for a while. They're in Australia and I'm sure they'd be willing to take you in. Once you're hidden, we'll have more time to figure something out."

Harry seated himself next to Ginny, nodding in agreement with Hermione. "I'll stay with you," Harry offered, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, looking at her hopefully. Ginny looked back at him and blinked, trying to process the suggestion.

Before she could come to any conclusions about whether or not it was even a good idea, her mother broke into the conversation. She'd been standing by in shocked silence up to that point but, apparently, the idea of Ginny moving away struck a particularly sensitive chord. "And how will I be with her? My baby's going to have a baby and I won't allow her to go through it alone. I'll go, too."

The room then erupted in loud discussion as Harry, Hermione, and her parents began emphatically planning for every possible concern surrounding the plan, not one of them even glancing at Ginny.

Ginny looked back and forth helplessly as their voices faded to a dull roar in her ears. They were planning for her to be smuggled and put away and she had no say in the matter. Her already stressed nerves were at a breaking point. She finally locked her gaze on Draco, who stood just outside the group, looking quite angry, but allowing the situation to play out. That was when she came to the clear conclusion that their plan had one enormous flaw, and that was that Draco was not a part of it.

He lifted his chin slightly, never breaking eye contact, and she realized that he was silently telling her to make her own decision and not be led by anyone. She loved that about him.

"No," she said loudly and firmly, causing the loud discussion to stop abruptly.

"What?" Harry said, rather shocked.

"I said no. I don't want to go that far away. There has to be another plan," she told them. She looked at Draco, the father of her child, and he gave her a smile that left her with no doubt that he cared about her greatly. Now that the time was right, she looked over at him, silently asking if he had another option, the small smile on his face told her that he might.

The others in the room followed her gaze to look at the handsome young man. He ignored them, instead looking only back at Ginny. Then, he walked toward her, an impish smile coming to his face. Kneeling in front of her so that he was at eye level, he took her hand so that he had her full attention.

"Marry me," he said, his expression serious, although his intent gaze seemed to pin her in place.

Gasps came from everyone around her, making the moment almost comical. She allowed a small smile to come to her face at the reaction, then realized once again how this blond man managed to make her smile even under the worst of circumstances. He was taking quite a risk, asking something so bold in front of a room full of her family, without even a clue to what her answer might be.

"I believe that she's already married," Harry said, harshly interrupting the moment. "Isn't that the whole issue here?"

"Ginevra Malfoy is dead, remember?" Draco replied, only half turning his head in the direction of the others. He turned back to Ginny, focusing his words to her alone. "The contract means nothing in the Muggle world. I have an identity that I forged there over a year ago. It wasn't that hard to do." He then turned to Molly and Arthur, as he would need their approval. "I've been living only a short distance from here, walking distance in fact, and I have a job in town. I can create an identity for her as well."

He turned back to Ginny, looking at her so earnestly that she felt her heart flutter as it did the first time he'd kissed her. He squeezed her hand, as if to emphasize his words. "Ginny Malfoy wouldn't exist. You would be an entirely new person. We could be married as Muggles, live right nearby, and our son would be part of a family."

She didn't see the look of shock on Hermione's face or the look of hurt on Harry's. She didn't see her mother's expression soften in hope or her father's half smile of approval. All she saw was the silver eyes of the man she'd fallen in love with as she smiled and said, "Yes. Yes, I will."

---

As always, special thanks to my beta, Aerleigh. And, please remember to drop a review. Thank you.


	26. Chapter 26 Hiding in Plain Sight

Her newly forged papers declared her new name would be Jennifer Winslow. Draco had deliberately chosen the name "Jenny" with the intention that it would be close enough to "Ginny" to minimize any chance of someone using her old name inadvertently.

It had only taken Draco a week to create the new identity, since he was already familiar with the process after having created his own. In addition, they also had the discreet help of a friend or two in the newly reformed Ministry that had agreed to look the other way if a small Confundus charm was used in the process.

For the most part, the Weasley family was supportive of the marriage, although none seemed happy that Ginny would be secluded among Muggles. By agreement, Ginny wouldn't return unless absolutely necessary. It was the best that circumstances would allow.

Ron remained the sole voice of dissent. When he arrived home from St. Mungo's he ranted at Ginny for what seemed like hours, muttering words about loyalty to Harry and something about leopards changing spots when he spoke about Draco. She tried not to shout back but eventually gave in to her temper. In the end, her brother relented, admitting that Draco had proven himself and agreed to let Ginny live her own life, although he refused to speak to her for the rest of the week, spending his time with Harry, who seemed to spend most of his time quietly sulking.

Possibly the most daunting task facing Ginny was the need to learn enough about being Muggle to behave convincingly in the new environment. Hermione was reluctantly helpful, despite Harry and Ron's reactions. The older girl's logical side seemed to override the disapproval of Ron and Harry and she spent much of her free time teaching Ginny about the Muggle world, leaving Ginny hopeful that the remaining two-thirds of the trio might eventually come around.

The morning of the wedding, Ginny found herself rummaging through her closet for something simple to wear.. The ceremony was going to be small, to attract as little attention as possible, but finding an appropriate dress for the occasion had proven more difficult than she anticipated. The week leading up to the event had been so busy with packing, Muggle lessons, and visits from her brothers that the dress she needed for the occasion had become almost insignificant.

In the end, she'd decided to make do with one of the things she and her mother had recently altered, but upon trying it on that morning, she discovered that her original choice no longer fit properly due to her expanding size. Baby notwithstanding, her mother had spent the past month feeding her with excessive enthusiasm.

She cursed slightly and cast an alteration spell on the offending item before slipping it on and looking at herself critically in the mirror. With a sigh of resignation, she sat down heavily on her bed.

It was the first quiet moment she had to herself all week and she took advantage of the silence to look around her room in much the same way that she had one year earlier, vividly recalling how she felt when she left to marry Lucius. Little about the room had changed during the time she'd been gone, and the sight of her familiar childhood room brought her comfort. She wondered if her new home would ever give her the sense of comfort and safety that she felt in her parents' house.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and she looked up to see her mother peering in, reminding Ginny that her departure this day bore almost no resemblance to the way she'd left the last time. She smiled at her mother and stood up, and was about to ask her mother for help in better altering her dress when she noticed the older woman holding out a shopping bag.

"I was able to find this in the Muggle shop in the village this morning when I was there with Hermione. I thought that you might like it," she said hopefully, motioning to the bag.

"Mum, you shouldn't have," she said, but nevertheless took the bag and peered into it like an eager child.

It was a simple wool dress, creamy white, rather comfortable and warm-looking, and loose enough to hide her rounding stomach. Ginny smiled as she removed the garment and held it up to herself. She would be able to wear the dress for other occasions as well. It was pretty, practical, and perfect.

"Thanks, Mum. It's lovely. How did you know?"

Her mother gave a smile in return. "I didn't, but I saw it and thought that, even if you didn't need it today, it might be a nice gift for another time."

She tried it on, enjoying the feel of the comfortable fabric. It was nearly new and she smiled gratefully at her mother, knowing that the gift must have cost her parents a few days of her father's wages. She pulled a worn pair of shoes from the closet that matched the dress well enough, thinking once again of the beautiful clothing she'd once worn and how this simple dress meant more to her than all the most expensive, custom-made garments in the world.

She turned to her mother, striking a pose. "How do I look?"

Her mother nodded in approval. "You look lovely, dear," she said, a small tear coming to the corner of her eye.

Concern overwhelmed Ginny. She'd been having enough difficulty holding back her own emotions due to the recent news of Lucius and all the planning for moving out. Her parents' calm support over the last few days had been her anchor. Seeing her mother upset immediately cast her hormone-enhanced emotions into turmoil and she immediately rushed to the older woman and gave her a hug. "Oh, Mum!"

"My baby girl," Molly replied simply, crushing her daughter close.

Still wrapped in her mother's embrace, she asked, "Are you sure you're all right with this, Mum? I mean... it's just so sudden."

Her mother released her, looking at her intently. "The boy fought You-Know-Who for you. Not for any other reason, but for you. Of course, I'm all right."

"But…."

The older woman gently reached up to touch Ginny's cheek, studying her face lovingly. She smiled sadly before speaking, her face taking on a thoughtful expression. "You two are so young. Much too young for all this responsibility."

Molly sighed heavily and reached up to brush a lock of hair from her daughter's face, the tear that had formed in her eye finally escaping, leaving a wet streak on her cheek. "War ages people before their time," she said. "I wanted to protect you from all that. I wanted so much more for your life."

Seeing her mother cry only caused Ginny to allow her own emotions to run unchecked and immediately tears came to her own eyes as well. Her mother's words were so true. The last year seemed like a lifetime and, even before that, she'd personally witnessed so much injustice that a part of her had become hardened. She felt far older than her twenty years.

Now she was moving into a world that was completely different from everything she'd ever known; a world that contained no magic.

A soft knock on the bedroom door fortunately interrupted the pair before they were too far overcome with emotion. Both women turned to see Arthur Weasley opening the door, peeking in tentatively. "Thought I'd check on my girls. You've been up here for quite a while."

They turned to him, still holding each other by the arms, tears streaking both their faces.

He began to back away. "Maybe I should leave …."

"No, Arthur. Just a little mother-daughter chat. I think we're done," Molly said, brushing the wetness from her cheeks.

He sighed in relief. "Good. It's nearly time. He'll be waiting for us at the church. Harry's been gracious enough to let us borrow the invisibility cloak so we won't be noticed leaving here." He turned to Ginny and looked at her seriously. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to, Ginny. If you have any doubts at all, we can find another way."

She loved her father so much. He'd move the moon for her if he could. It reminded her of the one thing that she regretted about choosing this new life for herself: she wouldn't be able to come home to see her parents as often as she'd like. She wasn't sure she was ready to leave her childhood home. Even though she'd spent a year away, somehow this was different.

But the thought of being with Draco set her heart racing. She was only moving down the street and, when she thought of it from that perspective, it seemed like the most natural progression in the world.

"I think I'd have chosen him no matter what, Dad. I know it's not perfect, but it's what I want."

He gave her the special smile that only her father could give. His chin lifted and his eyes told her that he was confident that everything would work out. "Well then, let's not keep your young man waiting," he said, offering his arm for her to take.

The walk to the village was quiet, mostly by necessity. The cloak was a little short for fully hiding three grown adults, forcing them to walk a bit awkwardly down the frozen path. Both her parents fussed over her the entire way, making sure that she didn't lose her footing.

They stopped at a small stone archway surrounded by hedgerow to remove the cloak. Molly paused to adjust her hair and dress slightly, giving her daughter one last look of approval.

Entering the small church, Ginny felt a wave of nervousness overcome her again, but the sight of her fiancé standing in the front, looking almost as nervous as she felt, seemed to balance her feelings. She was a bit sad that none of her brothers would be attending, but it was far too important not to draw attention to the matter.

The ceremony itself was short and sweet. Although it was as small as the civil ceremony she'd endured before, the warmth and love in the room filled her with a joy she never thought she'd know.

There was little fanfare after the ceremony; Ginny and Draco simply signed their fake names to a few papers and it was done. The sun peeked out from behind the clouds, warming the small group as they walked away from the church toward the little cottage that they'd chosen.

Ginny had only seen it in photographs before, to minimize any chance of her being noticed moving in and out of the Burrow and Apparating while pregnant was not recommended. It was actually much prettier than she'd expected. Located on the edge of the village, it was secluded but seemed warm and welcoming and even had a small garden in the back.

As her parents walked them to the door of the little house, her mother wrapped her in another hug. "Mrs. Jenny Hanson," she said softly. Then, turning to Draco, she asked, "How in the world did you ever pick that name?"

Draco looked contrite, then mumbled something, causing Ginny to laugh. "It's the name of his horse," she explained, her nervousness lifting as she noticed her parents' confusion over her amused comment.

Her parents looked at the pair in surprise. "You named your Muggle self after your horse?" her mother asked, traces of amusement coming to her face as well.

Draco looked slightly affronted. "Well, I considered Barnabas, but that seemed too obvious."

"His other horse," Ginny explained, still smiling.

"It was better than Twinkle!" he insisted, giving his bride a look of righteous indignation.

"His third horse?" her father asked, a smile also tugging at his lips.

Ginny nodded in mock seriousness.

Her parents both laughed, and her father pulling Ginny into a hug. "I think you are going to be all right, my little Gin-bug."

"Thanks, Dad," she said, allowing tears to flow, but they were happy tears. Despite the fact that she'd gone through a marriage ceremony only a year before, and all she had now was a simple Muggle ceremony and a Muggle piece of paper, it was in that moment that she truly felt that she was really married. Her parents' love and approval in the matter meant the world to her.

"We'll leave you now," her mother said, her smile turning gentle. "I'll be by on Sunday and you make sure that you send word if you are having any trouble at all with the baby."

She nodded and Draco wrapped his arm around her waist. After watching her parents wander back down the road, the young couple turned and entered the sparsely furnished cottage that was now their home.

Walking into the house for the first time, Ginny looked around. The few pieces of furniture were arranged along one wall and the few boxes holding their meager belongings were stacked in the corner, waiting to be unpacked. Doing it the Muggle way was going to be a challenge, but she was determined that she'd see it through.

She peered into the smaller of the two bedrooms, seeing the baby's crib that Fred and George had purchased just a few days ago as a wedding gift. She smiled. Her lively brothers were still a part of her life, reminding her once again that her hardship had been for the right reason. Judging from the obvious quality of the item, it seemed apparent that their joke shop had been flourishing since Voldemort's fall. She had been assured that the item contained no hidden jokes of any kind.

Glancing into the larger bedroom, she saw that the bed was covered in a lovely quilt and immediately recognized it as one that had been hand-made by her mother. She gave a deep sigh.

Warm arms encircled her as she looked at the room. "Is everything all right?" her new husband asked. It was so like him. He'd asked her that question just over a year ago, when they'd met in the Muggle pub and she tried to wrap her mind around the idea of calling him husband. It didn't seem quite real.

"I know it's a bit small, but it was the best we could find on short notice," he continued.

She turned in his embrace to face him and smiled. "It's perfect."

He smiled, with just a hint of smugness. "Good."

"You always ask if I'm all right. Are you all right?" He didn't answer right away, so she continued, "I mean, there's nothing stopping you from going back to the Magical world..."

He tightened his arms around her slightly. "It's a little late to ask that now, isn't it?"

She wrapped her arms around him, returning the embrace. "No, it's not. But, it's just a Muggle piece of paper, with two fake names on it. You can return anytime. I'm the one that has to stay hidden."

He shook his head. "There is no place I'd rather be. If I went back, I wouldn't have the money I'd need to keep my horses in the manner I'd prefer. Here, I get to do that every day and get paid for it." He winked. "It's not easy, but the place has its advantages."

She smiled shyly, tilting her chin down and looking up at him. "Advantages?"

Pulling her closer, he began rocking slightly, as if in a slow dance. "The pace is slower here, almost simple. Don't get me wrong; I miss having elves cooking and cleaning for me, but Muggles seem to live with a lot less mayhem. It's a bit more predictable."

Her smile turned coy. "Sounds boring."

"Oh no, love. Far from boring."

He leaned forward and kissed her, slowly and sweetly, and she felt an overwhelming urge to melt. They'd had so little time alone in recent weeks, with the exception of brief goodbye kisses, that she had almost forgotten how much she'd missed being alone with him. She languished in the feeling of his lips, soft and warm and welcoming. For the past week, she'd gone to bed each night thinking of his kisses and wondering if they would be any different in the Muggle world.

They were better.

The urge to be closer to him became more insistent as his mouth moved over hers hungrily. They were alone, really truly alone at last. The realization hit her like an epiphany. It was such a foreign concept that she could barely wrap her mind around it.

Then, he broke off the kiss rather abruptly, reached down and scooped her into his arms.

"What are you doing?" she squeaked in surprise, wrapping her arms around his neck to steady herself.

"Muggle tradition that I recently learned about. I'm carrying you into the bedroom."

"Oh."

"You don't like it?" he asked, stopping midway through the bedroom door.

For some unknown reason, nervousness overcame her. They'd been apart for so long, and she was becoming more acutely aware of her body was continuing to change due to her pregnancy. It was a tiny bit embarrassing to admit.

"I... It's not that... the tradition is rather lovely... but..."

"But, what?"

"I'm fat," she said timidly.

He blinked twice, processing her statement, then smiled. He marched into the bedroom and deposited her on the bed, leaning over to kiss her soundly. "I don't care."

She giggled, albeit nervously.

He pulled back, his expression turning dark and lustful, and immediately began removing his shirt. A smirk twisted slowly and sensually onto his lips as he looked at her on the bed, their bed. He towered over her, taking control and suddenly the hint of an unwelcome memory shot through her subconscious. Instinctively, she moved away from him, scrambling back toward the headboard, feeling ridiculously unsure of herself.

He stopped, his shirt unbuttoned and hanging loosely on him. Disappointment and concern replaced the lustful smirk that had been there only a moment before.

She bit her lip, realizing that her unconscious action had upset him. "I'm sorry," was all she could think to say.

"What's wrong?"

She wasn't entirely certain why she'd reacted the way she did. She sat back, thinking for a moment. Marriage had been so cruel to her in the past. Somehow, putting the label on herself again had struck a chord. She'd been unprepared for Draco's commandingly amorous advance. Swallowing, she tried to calm herself from the irrational reaction.

"It's just so sudden, so different."

He cautiously sat on the bed next to her, reaching over slowly to take her hand. "You were afraid...of me."

"No! Not of you. Never of you."

"But you were afraid."

She nodded sadly and took hold of his hand in return. "I guess I don't have fond memories of marriage. It hasn't been very good to me."

He hung his head, closing his eyes as if in pain. Looking back toward her, he looked at her earnestly. "I would never, ever try to force you to do something that you didn't want. You know that, don't you?"

She scooted over closer to him, feeling decidedly guilty over her unconscious reaction. "I know that with all my heart. I wouldn't be here otherwise."

He nodded but looked away from her again, still appearing hurt over her response to him. She brought up her other hand touching his cheek softly until he brought his eyes back to meet hers. His head was still down, his long, light brown fringe of hair dropping carelessly over his eyes, making him look sweet and inviting. She couldn't resist leaning in to kiss him softly.

Pulling away, she said, "It's a new life for us. I promise to try to forget the old." She paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. "I'm sorry. Everything just suddenly seemed so overwhelming."

Seemingly encouraged by the kiss, he brought his hand up to cup her cheek. "I promised to love and cherish you. That's what it should be."

He leaned in, closing the short distance again to kiss her, this time with a gentle intensity. The emotion of the kiss gave her chills. It was in that moment that she realized the label of marriage hadn't changed anything between them except their living conditions. She returned the kiss, hoping to match the intensity with her own.

The silent battle continued for a long minute, each partner intent on showing the other their feelings on the matter. Finally pulling away, Ginny felt breathless. More than breathless, she felt uncomfortably warm and shifted enough to grab the warm dress and pull it over her head.

He lifted an eyebrow questioningly but said nothing, as if afraid to disrupt the moment.

She tried to ignore how self-conscious she felt about her tummy, placing the recently removed garment in front of her. Then, she reached behind and unhooked her bra, enjoying watching her new husband's smile return to his lips.

"Don't ever think that I don't want you, Mr. Hanson," she said flirtatiously, using the fake name.

Encouraged, he crawled forward, forcing her to lie back as he leaned over her, enjoying how she welcomed the action with a smile. "I don't ever think I enjoyed hearing my Muggle name more."

She grinned up at him, her hands tracing down his stomach and tugging at his belt. "Good," she replied, "because I expect I'll be mentioning it frequently. I rather like the name Derek."

He smirked, leaning forward to kiss her again, allowing her to loosen the offending garment. He tugged it off the rest of the way, taking the moment of being away from her to remove his shirt as well.

She said nothing, just watched him appreciatively as he finished disrobing, her expression encouraging him to become a bit more bold. He moved up to lay next to her on the bed, lightly tracing his fingers along her arm, then up to her neck. They lay there like that for several minutes, just looking at each other. Eventually, she began to grow impatient. "Well, Mr. Hanson, do you plan to do something or are we just going to stare at each other all night?"

A lazy grin came to his lips again. "I was hoping you'd say something like that, Mrs. Hanson."

"Well, I guess seeing a handsome man undressed in front of me has inspired me."

"Oh, really?"

He pulled the dress away from hiding her tummy, leaning forward to lay light kisses there.

In actuality, her baby bump wasn't all that large. She'd seen Fleur and Tonks go through pregnancy and, by comparison, she was rather on the small side for six months along but her changing body still left her feeling self-conscious. The light kisses, however, made her forget all that. She buried her fingers in his hair, enjoying the intimate moment.

It wasn't long before he was trailing kisses up to her breasts, nuzzling them as his hand reached between her legs to pleasure her there. She gave an audible sigh, feeling both a physical and emotional overload at his touch. He stopped his nibbling at her breast to give a slight smirk at the sound.

"Don't you dare stop just yet," she ordered.

"Not married a day and already getting demanding," he responded, continuing to allow his fingers to play with her sex in a leisurely pattern.

"Oh, if I didn't love you so much, I'd hex you for that," she grumbled good-naturedly in return.

His grin widened. "As the lady wishes..." and with that, his touch brought her to the point of crying out in pleasure as she convulsed around his long fingers.

He withdrew his hand, moving himself to hover over her, carefully balancing on his elbows to avoid putting pressure on her. She wanted to return the favor, to play with him in return, but he seemed determined and she found herself giggling at his enthusiasm.

"Soon, I'm going to be too big for this particular position," she said.

"Well, I'm looking forward to experimenting with others, love. I'm sure we can be quite creative. For now, though, I intend to make full use of our time," he said as he lowered himself into her.

The tightness was wonderful and she tried to lift her hips to meet him, but felt just a bit awkward. He slowly rocked himself in and out, and the slowness was agonizing. He was being careful but it was far from what she needed at the moment. Her initial trepidation about how marriage would affect them had disappeared from her mind completely by this point, and all that was left was her need of him.

"I want to try something," she said, causing him to stop his actions and look at her questioningly. "Oh, nothing terrible, I promise," she continued, after catching the devilish gleam that came to his eyes at her words.

Disentangling herself from him, she turned over, supporting herself on her hands and knees. This position had always been one she'd avoided with him, since it seemed to have too many painful memories from her times with Lucius, but this moment was one of trust. He'd promised never to hurt her, never to force her, and this was her way of saying to herself that she fully believed that his words were the truth.

He leaned over her, placing his hands on her hips and guided himself into her once again. As he rocked inside of her, she felt the tingling of ecstasy build within. It was deeply personal, profoundly intimate, and she let herself give into the feelings until she moaned uncontrollably. His own grunt of fulfillment followed only moments later.

They collapsed onto the sheets immediately after, both spent, and covered in a light sweat. Darkness had fallen and suddenly, Ginny realized that they probably needed to get dressed to eat, although she was reluctant to leave such a comfortable spot in order to attempt to make her first Muggle meal.

"Sleep," he said, as if reading her thoughts. "I'll get us some takeaway in a little bit but I think we could use a nap for now."

She nodded, giving him a smile and a soft caress on his cheek before she turned onto her side to get comfortable. Her new husband curled up behind her, wrapping a hand around her waist to rest lightly on her rounded tummy. Just as they began to doze off, she felt a flutter underneath his hand.

He gasped, rubbing his hand lightly over the area. She'd felt the baby move before but this was the first time she'd been able to share the feeling with her child's father. She placed her hand over his, swept away in the special joy of the moment.

Kissing her shoulder, he pulled her closer, and said almost in awe, "That's really our son in there."

"Yes. Hard to believe that we'll be parents soon."

"I don't think I fully had time to comprehend what that meant until just his moment," he said, his hold on her tightening for a moment, as if to emphasize his words.

"I'm glad we're here together. When you're with me, I feel like I can handle anything," she said softly.

"We'll be all right. You'll see."

She nodded in agreement, then cuddled into the safety of his embrace and fell asleep.

Only three days later, Ginny was in tears, wondering what she'd gotten herself into. Draco was away at work and the little cottage was a mess. The dishes were piled high in the sink, encrusted with the remains of the previous evening's overcooked meal and she had spent most of the morning attempting to figure out the buttons on the machine that was responsible for washing the laundry.

It was horrible.

A small use of magic here and there would be acceptable, as long as no Muggles weren't around to see, but she knew she needed to learn how to do it all manually or risk being caught. She plopped herself heavily on the nearest chair and buried her face in her hands, peeking through her fingers at the small pile of dirty clothes.

She was so lost in contemplating her dilemma that when a loud knock came from the the front door, she nearly jumped out of her chair. She wasn't expecting anyone. Draco, ahem, Derek wasn't due home for several hours, so she hurriedly found her wand before walking toward the door.

The knock sounded again, startling her a second time. Pushing aside the curtain at the front window, she saw a Muggle woman on her front step, holding a package.

Tucking her wand up her sleeve, she cautiously opened the door.

The woman greeted her with a warm smile. "Hello," she said, "I hope I have the right house. Are you Derek's wife?"

Confused, Ginny merely nodded.

"It's nice to finally meet you," the woman said, again with an open, cheerful smile. "I'm Helen. Jack's wife."

She spoke as if Ginny should be familiar with the names. That was when Ginny realized that she truly had no idea about Derek Hanson's work or life. They'd always been so focused on their lives in the Wizarding World that the subject had never really been discussed and, over the past two days, they'd spend most of their time in the bedroom, becoming reacquainted with more important matters.

Ginny opened the door a little wider, still wary of the newcomer. She looked about to see if there might be anything that the woman was hiding while her mind darted back trying to recall hearing the name "Jack" in any of their conversations. Then, she recalled the picture of Derek and his friends with the horse, a picture now hanging on one of the cottage walls. The writing on the back mentioned someone named Jack.

The older woman's smile began to falter and Ginny attempted to remember her manners.

"Hi Helen, I'm Jenny. Won't you come in?"

The smile brightened again and the woman lifted the package in her arms. "When he told me that Derek had gotten married, I wanted to bring a little something to welcome you."

Ginny accepted the package, awkwardly smiling back, unsure if there might be some Muggle custom about accepting a gift that she didn't know about.

Then she turned and remembered that the cottage remained in the same sorry state it had been in just prior to her visitor's arrival. If she hadn't been so nervous about who was at her front door, she might have waved her wand to tidy it up before inviting the woman in.

She stopped short and gave her visitor an apologetic look. "I'm... I'm..." Her cheeks began to flush in embarrassment as she tried to form some sort of legitimate excuse about why the place was in such a state of disarray .

The woman's eyes surveyed the room and she smiled at Ginny in a motherly way. "You're only just married and you've never kept house on your own before, have you?"

Ginny shook her head. "I don't know how to use the machine thing," she said, pointing to the complicated laundry box. She probably shouldn't have said that, but the woman just seemed so nice that it rather slipped out.

Then, the nice older lady said the kindest thing imaginable. "Would you like some help, dear?"

Apparently, it wasn't completely inconceivable that a woman her age could be unfamiliar with maintaining a house, and Helen's friendship was the best thing that could have happened for Ginny. Granted, she still had weekly Muggle lessons with Hermione, but Hermione's methods were more along the lines of a lecture, where Helen often offered a more practical approach.

More importantly, Helen helped by introducing Ginny to friends, encouraging her to join a local knitting group, and going for walks with her to keep company while their husbands were at work.

Occasionally, various family members would stop by to check on her, but for all outward appearances, Derek and Jenny Hanson were a normal, young Muggle couple.

Alexander Hanson was born at the end of May, both his parents proud and exhausted after the ordeal. Molly Weasley was the only family member present, refusing to keep away from her daughter at one of the most significant events of her life. Also, Hermione, who had begun healer training, managed to find a way to be at the Muggle hospital for the birth, just in case any magical complications arose.

When they handed her their son for the first time, Ginny wept with joy. He was perfect. She kissed every finger and toe twice, just to make sure, while her husband rested his hand on the fuzzy blond hair on the child's head.

A few weeks after that, because it seemed a proper Muggle tradition, a Christening ceremony was held at the small church near the center of the village. For the first time in the three short months that the young Mrs. Hanson had been introduced, the couple truly seemed to have reason to celebrate.

At the insistence of Helen and Jack, a garden party was held afterward to commemorate the occasion. Feeling safe in having one family event, they invited the Weasley clan. All except Ron accepted the invitation with great enthusiasm. It seemed they were thrilled at the idea of attending a Muggle event and when the day arrived they came in small groups, using various methods to keep their arrival discreet.

Of course, there was a small amount of eccentric behavior displayed by the visiting wizards, but it was kept largely manageable by the exceedingly thorough Hermione. Under her careful watch, all remaining un-Muggle-like behavior was easily attributed to liberal amount of food and drink.

Ginny looked around at her family and smiled. A true celebration at last. She cradled her newborn son and found herself lost in the fantasy of the moment. From all accounts, one would never know the odd circumstances that clouded her past by seeing them that day and she was willing to pretend that, for that moment, this was truly her life.

Her arms were getting tired from holding the baby so long as picture after picture was taken of the new family. Finally, Draco relieved her of her tiny burden. "My turn to cuddle with him," he said smugly as he lifted the sleeping child from her arms. "You've had him long enough and it looks like your mother wants her share of time too."

She laughed and he leaned in to give her a brief kiss, holding the baby between them, when another flash of a camera went off.

"Oh, enough!" she mumbled, only partially annoyed. .

Fred was holding a magical camera, grinning madly. "That's a shot that I intend to frame for Ron. You need at least a few that move, Ginny. They can't all be of the Muggle variety."

Looking at the rather un-Muggle-like camera in her brother's hands, she gasped. "Don't you dare let the Muggles see that camera. I have no idea what to say if they start asking questions!" she said, looking around nervously and trying to push the camera down and out of sight.

"Oh, they won't notice a thing with the way you're making a scene about it," he laughed.

If she'd had a wand readily available, he'd certainly have been hexed, regardless of the Muggles in the vicinity. Fred only grinned again and darted off in the direction of her parents.

"You'll thank me for this someday," he shouted cheerily over his shoulder once he was well out of range for receiving any physical damage, of course.

She barely had time to cross her arms and give a small, irritated, "Hmmph," when she was suddenly aware of someone approaching her from behind. Turning quickly, she partially expected to see George attempting to match his twin in some sort of annoying antic. Instead, she saw the unexpected sight of Ron towering over her, his expression showing what could only be described as the exact opposite of Fred's.

In other words, he didn't appear to be the least bit cheerful or happy, but she smiled when she saw him anyway, because it meant the world to her that he was simply there.

"Ron! You came!"

"Brilliant deduction, Ginny. Good to see that you haven't lost all your senses, then," he said, still looking unhappy but she didn't miss his attempt at a joke, albeit a weak one.

She jumped up, wrapping her arms around him in an impulsive hug. Despite his glum demeanor, he returned the hug, and as she looked over his shoulder, she saw Harry standing slightly behind him.

"Harry!"

Not the first time that day, tears sprung to her eyes. Happy tears. They supported her, even if they didn't agree with her choice of being with Draco, and now her whole family was together. It was a beautiful day.

"Can't believe you really went through with it," Ron said, looking over at Draco, who was currently cooing and waving his fingers at his son while Molly held and gently bounced the infant. Fred blatantly was taking pictures of the undignified scene, likely intending to use the photos for blackmail at a later date.

"I didn't have a choice, Ron. The baby was going to arrive no matter what."

"I mean the marriage. You know I meant that. I still can't believe it."

She didn't miss the fact that Harry remained a step back, saying nothing. She addressed both of them. "He's good to me. I know you find that hard to believe, but he is."

"What I want to say, Gin, is that you don't have to settle for this," Ron stated. Harry only nodded, staying silent. She understood why. After all, she'd already turned Harry down and they were hoping that by Ron speaking, she'd take their interference differently.

Harry finally seemed to find his voice. "We just want you to be happy, Ginny. We want to make sure that you're not rushing into something. It's not too late to find other options."

She wasn't angry, not yet, but if they kept pressing she would be. She needed to make them understand.

"What am I settling for?" she asked, looking earnestly between them both. "My baby is going to grow up with a mother and father who love him, together. My Mum and Dad are nearby and, while I'd rather not be living as a Muggle, at least here our marriage is real, and we are a real family, and Alex will never need to know otherwise."

"Someday, he'll need to come back to our world, you know," Ron argued. "He will find out his real family name. A secret like that won't keep forever."

"Maybe, but at least by then he'll hopefully be old enough to understand. Draco and I will deal with it together when the time comes."

"I still don't like him, Gin. You could do better. He'll always be part Death Eater in my opinion," Ron said, his tone sounding just a bit desperate.

She bristled, sparks coming to her eyes. The old Ginny had fully returned, after a year-long hiatus. She no longer had to hold back opinions and she certainly had no further reason to back down from a fight. She didn't even need her wand. She'd simply punch the living daylights out of her own brother if necessary to defend herself and, now, her family. "Don't you dare say that, Ron. You know that's not true."

Ron looked abashed, knowing he was wrong, but unable to verbally admit to it.

At that moment, the subject of the conversation walked to them, still cradling the infant in his arms, looking about as far from being a Death Eater as a man could look. Shifting the baby to one side, he wrapped his free arm around Ginny's waist and gave Ron and Harry a guarded look. Ginny immediately calmed, her burst of temper fading almost as fast as it came. Her family. She'd thought of Draco and Alex as her family. It completely overrode her irritation at her brother.

Draco appeared slightly suspicious but chose to ignore the obvious signs of recent argument by completely changing the subject. He spoke to Ginny cheerfully. "We really have to train your brothers to use my Muggle name. They've almost slipped up twice," he said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. As chaste as the act was, Ginny still blushed and smiled. Any display of affection in public was still unfamiliar to her. She reached her hand around his waist, returning the half hug.

"So, that's the baby, yeah?" Ron said, peering over to get a better look at the child.

"I see that you are as astute as ever, Weasley," Draco replied.

Ron shot him a dirty look, but said nothing as he reached out and took the little hand in two fingers, giving a small handshake. "Pleased to meet you, Alex." Alex responded by allowing drool to bubble from his lips.

"Good God, Weasley, you're encouraging him into bad habits already," Draco said, pulling the baby back and giving Ron a mock look of horror. Ginny laughed, all traces of anger erased from her thoughts.

"You look less poncy with the brown hair, Malfoy," Ron muttered, looking to change the topic. "How are you planning to explain the blond hair on the baby to everyone?"

"It comes from my mother's side," Draco replied snidely, in far too good a mood to be ruffled by Ron's jab. Before Ron could attempt another, Draco was already walking away to show off his son to the next group of admirers, Ginny smiling with affection as she watched him depart.

It was then that she realized how tall her brother had become in the time he'd been away. When the trio had left, they'd only been seventeen, now her brother was full grown and very much the same height and build as Draco. Even the odd exchange she'd just witnessed showed that they shared a similar wit. The two were more alike than either of them realized.

Ron appeared more relaxed after the altercation but when he turned back to Ginny, he once again looked doubtful and seemed to be ready to say something more. She grabbed his hand, hoping to have his full attention when she spoke again. "I love him, Ron," she told him firmly.

Her brother looked straight into her eyes as she said the words with conviction and gave a nod in understanding.

Harry shuffled nervously and Ginny once again found herself worrying about the hero's future. Now that he had defeated Voldemort, she once again wondered if he would find a new goal. She wasn't sure if he was going to now focus all his efforts on trying to save her from Draco.

But instead, his words surprised her. "Then we'll do our best to make sure that you both can come back, Ginny," he said, with every bit of his noble demeanor. "You shouldn't be afraid of coming home to see your parents, or be forced to keep hiding here if you don't want to. Alex will need to go to Hogwarts someday."

Ron nodded, solemnly agreeing with Harry.

"Harry wants us to get involved at the Ministry. We've got a bit of a reputation now, and we want to use that to fix some of the mess."

She brightened further. The pair had found a new quest, just as noble and lofty as the last. The thought of someday returning from exile was a wonderful thought. She doubted they'd have much success, but it was good that the golden trio seemed to have a real, tangible goal.

Suddenly, a motion near her parents caught her attention. She looked in that direction and felt a small wave of panic.

"Oh dear Lord, Ron. Dad is trying to talk to Jack, and he's waving his hands like he's trying to describe something Muggle. Please go rescue him before everyone thinks he's daft."

"He **is** daft when it comes to Muggle things, Gin," Ron returned with a knowing grin. With that, the siblings seemed to have finally made their peace as Ron proceeded to make his way across the patio toward his father.

Harry watched him go, a small smile on his face at the endearingly hopeless attempts Arthur made to understand the Muggle world. "All these years, and he's never quite gotten it, has he?"

Ginny shook her head with a smile. "I don't imagine he ever will, but I love to watch him try."

"I can't even come close to imagining Malfoy fitting in here. Living here like this, of his own free will," Harry added.

She smiled, looking over at Draco/Derek holding his son and beaming with pride as he stood with Molly for yet another picture. The sight warmed her heart. "I'm happier than I ever thought I could be."

She looked back to Harry. He wasn't happy to hear her admission, but he'd finally resigned himself to accept her choice.

The next few months could only be described as exhausting. Draco whined endlessly that it was the job of a house elf to change nappies, neither of them got a decent night's sleep for weeks, and then there was the continued effort to adapt to truly keeping a household without magic.

Hermione continued to stop by to give Ginny "Muggle" lessons, teaching her the day to day things in an efficient, detailed manner, as only Hermione could. They sat down frequently for lectures and Ginny was even given homework, which made her feel as if she was back in school again.

It was Jack's wife, Helen, who helped her the most, however, teaching her many of the things about how to handle the baby and such, all the while muttering about how young they were to have a child and how it was a shame that the world had yet to come up with a proper school for teaching new parents.

Eager to help with her newest grandchild, Molly was there almost daily, Apparating to a spot outside the village near a Muggle bus stop, to appear to any passers-by that she'd arrived in that manner. Ginny looked forward to seeing her walking down the familiar path that led to her back door and, as the weather warmed into summer, Ginny would tote Alex in a carrier with her out to the garden as she worked, simply enjoying the pleasant company.

Draco even had friends whom Ginny enjoyed meeting, friends who talked about work and girls and sports, and not a hint of wanting political power or paying homage to a dark lord looking to take over the world. She loved his friends.

Then there were more priceless moments than Ginny could count. Each time her son gave her a smile, she felt like her heart would burst with love and, each time Alex managed a new accomplishment, she felt a compulsive need to record the event in pictures and share it with anyone who was nearby to listen.

Onemoment that stood out in her mind was a rainy day, like any other, where Draco had come home from his work, and the dinner she'd made had been particularly good. As he settled down to read his newspaper after that, she settled into the big plush chair by the window to feed their small son, only to look up and find him watching her as if she was the most amazing thing on the planet. He walked over to her and kissed her passionately, the infant snuggled between them still feeding.

And then, every night, they would crawl into bed, exhausted, curled up against each other and whispering expressions of love. That was when Ginny knew that, despite any hardship, she was in the only place she would ever want to be, happier than she'd ever imagined.

Sorry. This is NOT the end.


	27. Chapter 27 Tethers to the Past

A/N – My lovely beta tells me that my smut is definitely improving. LOL. Enjoy.

Ginny hurried with her chores, hoping to finish quickly before her mother arrived. The warm summer afternoon spent playing in the garden dirt with her son had left her in need of a bath before dinner. Her mother was coming by to stay with Alex while she and Draco went out and she didn't want the older woman to feel the need to tidy up, mostly because her mother would certainly resort to cleaning the house with magic and Alex was getting old enough to start asking questions.

It was hard, but they really did try to keep Alex thinking that he was a Muggle child for the time-being. Not that they wanted to keep magic from their son, but that he was too young to understand that it was something that couldn't be discussed with almost everyone they knew.

She tossed the last of Alex's stray toys in their box and began running water for a quick bath just as the doorbell rang.

"Come in!" she shouted, picking up a few more stray items.

Molly Weasely peeked in and entered the little home carrying a small casserole dish. "It's just me," her mother said cheerfully. "Where's my little grandson?"

Ginny smiled, her tidying forgotten, as she trotted toward the door to give her mother a quick hug. "You know, Mum, that I'm starting to think that you only stop by to see him instead of me," Ginny replied cheekily.

Molly placed the dish on the table, giving her daughter a mock condescending look. "Well, it's only partially true. Besides, tonight is your night to spend with your husband. It's my night to have my Alex all to myself."

"I presume you brought his favorite?" Ginny replied, motioning to the dish.

"Macaroni and cheese, just the way he likes it."

Ginny chuckled and, at that moment, the subject of the conversation burst in from his bedroom. "Grammum!" he peeped.

The two-year old boy ran toward the older woman, his smile bright and his crystal blue eyes sparkling. "How's my favorite grandson?" Molly asked, bending down to allow the little one to wrap his arms around her.

"Good!" he replied happily.

Molly wiped a smudge of dirt from the child's cheek, then looked over at Ginny, noticing her daughter's similarly dirty appearance. "What have the two of you been into?"

"The garden. Alex was helping me pull some weeds. I thought that maybe you'd enjoy giving him his bath tonight?"

The older woman's smile brightened and she turned to the happy little boy. He loved bath time. "With bubbles?" she asked, giving a sly smile in Alex's direction.

"Of course," Ginny said, grinning.

"Yeah!" the small one said in agreement, his smile brightening even further.

Draco arrived a short while later, his now-clean child running up to greet him with the same enthusiasm he'd shown for his grandmother's arrival.

"There's my little man," he said, picking up the toddler and fondly ruffling the soft blond hair on the child's head. Alex giggled in response.

Ginny looked at the pair and felt a now-familiar feeling of happiness come over her. Alex was a happy child and Draco clearly adored his small son. The little one looked more like his father every day and the sight warmed her heart. "You're home early," Ginny said, walking over to greet her husband with a quick kiss.

"It's not every day that my wife has a birthday, so Jack let me escape early," he explained. "Besides, I have news."

"Good news?"

"The best. I found Twinkle."

"What?" Ginny asked, unsure if she'd heard him correctly.

His smile brightened triumphantly as he explained. "Somehow, Twinkle was sold to one of our Muggle clients and I got Jack to buy her. I'm hoping to bring Alex in next week and I can start him riding."

"Oh Draco, isn't he still a bit young for that? He's only two."

He placed the boy down and wrapped his arm around his wife's waist in an almost cavalier gesture, further signifying his good mood. She scowled at him but he ignored it. "It will be good for him," he said with endearing enthusiasm. "You know how patient she is. I'll just sit him on her and he'll be fine. If you want, you can be there to help hold him steady. Think of it as a birthday present."

She raised an eyebrow and looked at him skeptically, stepping back so she could place her hands on her hips in her most stern expression. Unfortunately, the humor in her eyes completely ruined the image. "Well, of course I want to be there," she said, giving him a pout. Then, after a short pause, she added, "And my birthday present is you buying yourself your own horse and giving my son riding lessons?"

He smirked devilishly, knowing that he was going to charm her into getting his way and was just beginning to say something in return, when suddenly, Ginny let out a yelp of pain.

Clutching her head, she dropped to her knees. Her mother and husband rushed to her aid, barely reaching her before she fell to the floor, unconscious.

- x - x - x - x -

Hermione Granger, Healer-in-training, walked out of the bedroom, leaving Ginny sleeping with Alex curled up next to her. The young mother's pain had lessened soon after the initial attack and her small son had insisted on being close to her while Hermione did her examination. The Healer looked back on the sleeping pair, thinking of what a sweet picture they made, before turning her gaze to the two worried faces outside the room.

"I gave her a sleeping draught. You were right to call me. It was magical, not medical."

Draco frowned, a deep line of worry appearing in his brow. "Does she need to go to St. Mungo's?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head, her expression carefully neutral. "No, it's not bad enough to risk her being seen there," she replied. "I think the worst is over, although I'd like to monitor her closely for a few hours, in case she has another attack."

"So, you know what it is," Molly stated.

"Not exactly," the young Healer replied hesitantly, clearly uncomfortable with not knowing the answer. She opened her mouth to say more but her next words were interrupted by the sound of tapping at the window. All three looked over to see an owl waiting patiently. Hermione rushed to the window to let it in, taking the paper it held and scanning the contents quickly. She released a heavy sigh.

"What is it?" Molly asked.

"I sent an owl to a colleague of mine to see if he's seen anything like this," Hermione replied, staring at the words on the parchment. "He just wrote back to tell me that another patient was admitted this afternoon with the same symptoms." She paused when she reached the end of the note, her face visibly disturbed by the words written on the document. She looked up and took a deep breath before responding. "The other patient was Lucius Malfoy. It says that he came in with a woman, his fiancé. She said they were getting married and he collapsed during the bonding part of the ceremony."

The silence in the room was stifling. It had suddenly become apparent that whatever had happened to Ginny was no random occurrence. The three stared at each other for several long seconds, each unsure of how to proceed. Finally, Draco stood, his face pale, his shoulders rigidly set.

Molly turned toward him, speaking calmly, although her expression clearly showed her fear. "Do you know what this is?"

He paused, swallowing dryly. "I didn't identify it before because I didn't know what the symptoms were." His expression took on a tone of defeat, then, he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly while both women looked at him expectantly. "It's one of the traditional bonding spells."

Molly's jaw dropped in disbelief. "But those are never used anymore..."

Draco shook his head. "They've fallen in and out of favor over the centuries, depending on society's views, but they're not uncommon in some of the older families that feel strongly about Pureblood honor and tradition."

"So, I presume Lucius falls into that category," Molly said bitterly.

He nodded, a grim set to his jaw making his expression turn hard. "There are four volumes of books in the Malfoy library that cover the protective spells on everything from family heirlooms to the grounds, and even the family members. Appearance and prestige have been a very important part of the Malfoy bloodline. So much so, in fact, that spells are cast to ensure that we hold to certain values."

"So, he got the pain because he was attempting to override a pre-existing bond," Hermione stated.

He nodded again. "Marriage is one that is particularly important for appearance and social standing. Divorce is considered to be unacceptable. It's old magic but still commonly used in a bonding ceremony, if requested, and it's a family tradition that ensures that the wife of a Malfoy will never leave."

"But, I don't understand," Hermione said. "You and Ginny have been married for over two years and nothing happened during that entire time."

Draco ran his hand nervously through his hair, trying to draw on his knowledge of the spell. "It was a Muggle ceremony. The magic probably never recognized it as a valid binding. I never really thought about it or even considered that he might have used the spell, considering the circumstances of the marriage contract."

"If it makes you feel any better, based on the notes from my colleague, Lucius seemed to be in far worse condition than Ginny," Hermione added.

"Fair enough," Draco said, his face twisting into a distasteful sneer. "He deserves every ounce of it. I'm guessing that since he was the one attempting to override the bond, it would make sense that he would feel worse."

He ran his hand through his hair, suddenly looking tired and worried, and older than he had only hours ago. His expression turned angry and distant, an expression that neither woman had seen on the young man for the past two years.

"Do you know if this kind of bond was used when Lucius married your mother?" Hermione asked, hoping to keep him from withdrawing from them. "I mean, if it was, how was he able to marry Ginny?"

Hermione already knew the answer. She was only asking for confirmation and, with the tone of his voice expressing the deepest dread, he stated the fact that none of them wanted to admit. "My mother was dead. The bond was broken," he said flatly, not breaking eye contact with the witch.

"Then he knows she's still alive."

"He knows now," Draco agreed, casting a forlorn glance back into the darkened bedroom where his wife and son were sleeping peacefully.

Molly sat down heavily on the nearest chair, her shoulders slumping in despair. "That monster is going to come after my baby girl, isn't he?" she said quietly.

Draco nodded, his expression a mixture of concern and disbelief. His family was suddenly in grave danger. It would only be a matter of time before Lucius set every last resource on the hunt for his estranged wife.

They were hidden for the time-being, but the cover Draco had orchestrated was far from foolproof. Much of it had depended on the fact that nobody would be actively looking for them. When Draco had originally created his Muggle alias, long before he'd met Ginny, it had been intended for only himself, but it had worked so well that slipping Ginny in had been the easiest way to hide them both quickly.

Unfortunately, hiding a family was far more difficult to hide than a single man. If Lucius truly began a full search for his errant wife, it would only be a matter of time before she would be found.

"Don't tell her just yet," he said, looking to both witches. "I'll tell her in a day or two, after we celebrate her birthday." He waited for the other two to nod, although both seemed reluctant. "And, as much as I dread saying this, I need to get in touch with Potter. I know he's been working on changing things but I need every shred of information he can get that might help."

x - x - x - x - x

The next evening, Draco took his wife out for her birthday dinner. At her request, they went to the same pub where they first met. Walking home on the warm summer evening, Draco wrapped his arm around his wife's waist.

Are you happy with me, Ginny?"

She smiled up at him. "Happier than I ever imagined I would be. I love you, you know."

He smiled back, then leaned down to give her a light kiss. He would have to tell her soon. It would break the little bubble they'd been happily hiding in for over two years, but he couldn't put it off much longer. She had to know that she was, once again, in danger.

She didn't miss his troubled expression. "It has to change now, doesn't it," she stated sadly.

"Ginny..."

"I know that he knows," she interrupted.

Surprised by her statement, he stopped walking and turned to face her, unsure of how to respond.

"It wasn't hard to figure out," she explained. "I know you met with Harry this morning while Hermione was checking on me. Not to mention that she looked far too unhappy while she was telling me that I was fine. You wouldn't meet with Harry unless it was something urgent."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because you wanted this night to be special. It's all you've talked about for days. We've had two and a half wonderful years together, and I didn't want to spoil celebrating that."

"Then let's not spoil it. We'll deal with it tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah," she agreed as she snuggled closer to his chest. He tightened his grip on her, as if he was afraid of the moment when he would have to let her go.

Arriving at the small cottage, the couple relieved Molly of her babysitting duty and bid her goodnight. Ginny peeked her head into their son's bedroom and verified that he was sleeping soundly.

She turned to her husband and gave him a devilish smile. "I've been waiting all day to get you alone, you know."

He'd been in the process of loosening his tie, but stopped and raised one eyebrow questioningly. She responded by walking forward boldly, grasping the tie and tugging it free as she smiled up at him. "You heard me."

"And..." he prompted, his voice and expression cool but his eyes hinting at amusement.

Fingering the top button on his shirt, she deftly slipped it out, moving swiftly to the next. He stood still, a small smile twitching to his lips as he watched her continue to disrobe him.

"...and I have plans for you."

"Really," he stated, as she finished with the buttons and reached her hands under his shirt, lightly tracing over his chest.

"Really," she confirmed, looking up at him in mock seriousness.

Her words distracted him and he allowed the unpleasant worries to slip away from his thoughts. Her smile did that to him. Things were going to change, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't allow them to enjoy the time they had left.

A small smile tugged at his mouth as he responded, "You do realize that your birthday was yesterday. The opportunity has passed and I can't simply let you have your way, you understand."

"Oh, I think you'll make an exception," she replied, her hands tracing downward lightly as she began working on his belt.

His look turned skeptical but he did nothing to stop her ministrations. She smirked.

"Is Alex asleep?" he asked, glancing toward the door of the child's room.

She nodded. "I have full faith that my mother has tired him out thoroughly."

"Without a doubt," he agreed, returning her playful smile. Glancing over her shoulder to confirm that the toddler was indeed asleep, he gave a half-hearted attempt to stop his wife's roaming hands. "But I think we should move this to our room."

"I knew you'd agree with me," she said, her impish smile brightening. She tugged on the waistband of his trousers, urging him to follow her into their bedroom.

"Witch," he said with affection as he followed her willingly. She smiled with superiority as he closed the door behind them.

Removing her hand from his trousers, she stepped up closer, reaching up to slide the shirt from his shoulders, then paused, giving a small, devilish smile as she admired him. Over the past two years, he'd grown broader from days of hard, honest Muggle work. Not that he considered it work. If left alone in his life of luxury, he'd be doing much of the same each day, except here, he had friends and co-workers to share his passion. She was proud of how he'd truly adapted to this radically different world that they now lived in. He didn't need to do it; in the Wizarding world, he was a hero. He could return at any time to a normal life filled with magic, but instead he chose to stay for her and for their family. She not only loved him, she also respected him.

But it wasn't a time to reflect on such things. At the moment, she simply wanted him. Tracing the lines of his shoulders, she reached one hand around the back of his neck, pulling his head down so she could kiss him. She never got tired of his kisses, always soft and sweet and just possessive enough to make her feel wanted in return. As he returned the kiss, she once again busied her hands with loosening his trousers.

As the garment fell to the floor, he pulled back slightly. "Someone is eager tonight."

"I told you that I've been waiting to get you alone all day."

He grinned stepping out of the remains of his clothing. "I knew there was a reason I married you."

The words were bittersweet to her, knowing that their time together might be ending, but she didn't dwell on it. Instead, she gave him a coy smile and stepped back, loosening the buttons on the front of the light summer dress she wore and slipping the straps from her shoulders, enjoying how her husband watched her with appreciation.

Living as a married couple for so long had made them comfortably familiar with each other's bodies, and they quickly fell into the routine of lovemaking. Soft touches, whispers and caresses followed as the remaining items of clothing were shed.

Still standing, Ginny looked over her husband again and took his hand, tugging it as she moved onto the bed. Once again, he followed willingly, a slightly smug smile on his face. He crawled on top of her, guiding her to lie back and leaned in with the intention of laying kisses on her collarbone, but she placed a hand solidly on his chest, effectively telling him to stop.

"What?"

She shook her head, her expression turning feral and moved from underneath him when he backed away, giving a look of confusion. "Sorry, love. I'm in charge tonight," she replied cheekily.

He raised his eyebrows and sat back, giving her room to pounce on him, pushing him backwards onto the bed.

"Ouch!" he yelped, landing with his leg at an awkward angle as her knee collided with his hipbone.

"Sorry," she said, looking only half-apologetic as she moved to allow him to shift to a more comfortable position. "I can't believe you can be such a baby sometimes."

"I am not a baby," he insisted.

She raised an eyebrow skeptically, a glint of humor in her eyes as she straddled his waist. "You're right. Alex doesn't whine half as much as you do. Maybe 'ponce' is a better word."

"Do not make me tickle you," he ordered.

"You wouldn't dare."

He gave her an evil smile. "Do you want to test that?"

She shook her head and wriggled slightly and his attention immediately shifted to the sight of his naked wife perched on top of him. She grinned, knowing that she was well on her way to having full control of him.

He dropped his head back on the bed in a show of mock defeat. "Why do I even try?"

"Because the fun is in the battle, love," she said with superiority and leaned forward, rubbing her bare chest against his before giving him a soft kiss.

She wiggled again, rubbing her hands along his torso, then up to his collarbone and neck, giving gentle kisses that followed her exploration. She finally began running her fingers through his light brown hair, enjoying how soft it felt as her lips found his mouth again.

He groaned in response. He'd been trying to refrain from touching her in return but finally found himself unable to resist. Reaching up to wrap his arms around her, his hands slowly slid up her back and into her hair.

She pulled away just far enough to give him a satisfied smirk. "I knew you couldn't resist me."

"Witch," he said again, lifting his head to meet her lips for another kiss.

She wiggled again, rubbing her center along his length. She gave a little moan of pleasure and it nearly shattered what little self-control he'd been maintaining. He firmly decided that he very much enjoyed being at the receiving end of her ministrations.

"Are you planning to tease me all night?" he asked. "Because I may have to retaliate if you do."

She shook her head again, her smile turning sultry. "Oh no, love. I told you I had plans for you." And with that, she lifted her hips, allowing him to slip inside of her.

"Oh, you are going to kill me," he said, dropping his head back on the pillow and closing his eyes.

She giggled, moving her body up and down with an agonizing slowness, enjoying the look of sheer bliss on his face.

"I love you," he whispered.

She smiled, gliding her body back and forth in a gentle rhythm. Eventually, he became impatient, reaching his hands to her hips to speed her motion. The feeling of him rubbing inside of her was exquisite and she relished it, wondering if her heart might burst from the overwhelming intimacy of their joining. It wasn't long before she could feel her walls clench in ecstasy and the glorious feeling of him responding with his own release. It was achingly beautiful and she collapsed on top of him, their sweat mingling as they held each other.

In that moment, she could feel her heart break, knowing that it might be their last time together for a very long time.

- x – x - x - x - x

Draco Malfoy was quietly working in the Potions shop that he owned with Severus Snape, just as had become his routine over the past four weeks. After two years living as a Muggle, he'd been able to integrate himself back into the Wizarding world relatively smoothly, thanks to his former professor and mentor. The work was almost soothing and he passed his days steadily brewing potion after potion in the little shop. He had to give Snape credit; the business was thriving and the return on Draco's initial investment in the shop had been worthwhile.

But more than simply giving him a means to keep him sane while he was separated from his wife and son, the work provided a convenient cover story for Draco's return to the Wizarding section of London.

His true reason for returning to his former life had been far more complicated than simply returning to his business. If he felt he'd had a choice, he would have preferred to stay in seclusion with Ginny and Alex. It might work for a while, but he was logical enough to know that it would be impossible to live that way forever. More importantly, he knew that he wouln't be very useful about finding a permanent solution if he stayed in hiding. He needed access to information and people who might help, so he'd left his family and returned to the magical world alone.

Parts of his return had been easy. He'd missed using magic and his position in Snape's little shop was theraputic in a way. When he wasn't working, however, he spent his time with one of Potter's Aurors, going over as many of his family's protection spells as he could remember, hoping that the information might never be needed.

Unfortunately, he'd never been entirely happy with Potter's overall plan. He'd hoped, that with over two years working at the Ministry that the Boy-Who-Still-Annoyed-the-Crap-Out-of-Him would have been able to do more than implement a handful of laws to protect a witch against spousal abuse. But Draco understood all too well that change in such an area would be slow. The laws were based on Muggle laws, so it was necessary that they be introduced slowly.

The contract that bound Ginny to his father remained valid, unless they could prove that Lucius intended to do harm to either his wife or her child. The new laws could not be applied to the abuse that Ginny had endured before they were enacted, both because the actions weren't illegal at the time and, more importantly, there were no witnesses. They needed proof that Lucius intended to harm her, and Draco fumed that Potter's brilliant plan involved creating a situation where Lucius might have a chance to do so.

Potter wanted to let Lucius near Ginny long enough for him to show that he intended harm, a plan that Draco devoutly opposed.

After Draco's steadfast refusal of the plan, it was suggested that an Auror would be Polyjuiced to look like Ginny, but the woman needed to be trained to behave like Ginny and that was taking time. Worse, Draco felt that it was a terrible idea. If Lucius discovered that Ginny was an impostor, they'd likely lose the chance to trap him. It left Draco feeling impatient and frustrated.

Draco was pulled from his thoughts by the tinkling of a bell, which notified him that someone had entered the shop and he quickly looked down to provide a few moments to compose himself. When he looked up, his eyes met the cold, imposing face of Lucius Malfoy, and his momentary startled reaction caused the older man's mouth twitch into a smug smile.

"You've picked an interesting time to return to London, Draco," the older man stated, foregoing any sort of greeting, his expression holding a hint of malice.

Draco fought down his initial reaction, forcing himself to appear calm. "No more interesting than any other time, I suppose," he replied, offering nothing more or less to the conversation than absolutely necessary.

His father's slight smile turned into a sneer. "Perhaps," the older man said almost thoughtfully. "Tell me, where have you been these past two years?"

Draco attempted to appear disinterested, as if the conversation had little importance to him. "After the last time we spoke, I was under the impression that you had no interest in my affairs, Father," he replied.

"Humor me."

Draco looked up, met his father's cold gaze and replied evenly, "Snape needed someone to search out some rare Potions ingredients and obtain them at a fair price." The remark was true, Draco merely failed to state that another wizard had been hired for that particular task.

"Of course," the older man responded, his tone indicating that he was far from believing Draco's statement. "I was merely presuming that you might have returned upon hearing that I was considering marrying again."

Draco swallowed. "I have no interest in your personal affairs, Father."

"Oh, but you do," he said, idly toying with the snake-shaped head of his cane. "You care very much about me obtaining another heir."

Draco shook his head. "You've already disowned me. I'll build my own fortune, if I must."

"You'll do no such thing, unless I wish it to be so!" Lucius barked sharply, causing Draco to jump at the sharp, almost irrational change burst of anger from the older man. "I can have your little shop's contracts nullified and your license revoked with only a few words and donations to the right people."

Draco's brow creased in irritation. Lucius was there for a reason and he needed to know why. "Then why are you here? I'm doing nothing to interfere with your plans, Father."

"I'd ask for you to not call me by that title. If it were at all convenient to do so, I would have you Obliviated from my memory entirely. I've come to inform you that I have recently discovered that I have no need to remarry," he said, his anger disappearing and his voice dropping to a spiteful tone. "It appears that I only need to locate your replacement."

Draco found it suddenly difficult to breathe, knowing what his father was about to say.

Sensing the minor indication of discomfort from the younger man, Lucius's face twisted into an oily smile. "It seems that our dear Ginevra is still alive."

"Really," Draco replied with a tone of disinterest, although he could feel his pulse begin to race.

The smile broadened. "Oh, come now, boy. I have a feeling you are well aware of her treachery. She used you, didn't she?" His voice dropped low, tauntingly, "She used you to help plan her escape."

The younger man's eyebrow lifted slightly and he fought to hide any further expression. "I don't know what you are talking about."

Lucius leaned forward, placing both hands on the counter that was between them, his mouth twitching into an evil smile. "She is the perfect example of Slytherin cunning. I admire her for her guile. In fact, it's a shame she was brought up by the little blood-traitor family of hers, because she would have done well for herself if she were properly trained." He looked as his son, allowing his expression to change to one of disdain and disappointment. "She would have been a perfect match for you."

"For me?"

"Yes! If you hadn't turned weak and fallen from favor, I might have considered arranging the marriage for you instead of myself."

Draco's jaw dropped open in surprise. Lucius was likely lying, hoping to draw a reaction from him, and it had, unfortunately, worked.

His father leaned back, standing upright, his superior smirk returning. "But you did far worse, betraying me, betraying the cause." He paused again, taking a deep breath. "It is no longer of consequence. Ginevra is still alive and I'm willing to wager half my fortune that the child she carried is also alive. My son. I will have my son and I will raise him properly." The look in the older man's eyes turned distant for a brief moment, giving a glimpse into his insanity. "I will begin again and, mark my words, you will be nothing more than a distasteful memory. "

Lucius began to turn away, a smug smile firmly set on his lips. Draco couldn't let him go, not with those words being his last. His temper flared.

"How can you possibly think Ginny will allow you to raise a child to worship the Dark ways and Pureblood supremecy? Have you forgotten she's a Weasley?"

Lucius spun around, another flash of anger appearing in his cold eyes. "She is my wife! I will begin again and have a family worthy of the Malfoy name!"

Draco stared in shock at the mad glint in his father's eyes, so very different from the man he remembered as a child, so very opposite of the man who had loved his mother. His father had always refused to lose, be it in business, politics, even small wagers with friends. He'd taken that unwillingness to fail to an extreme when Voldemort had come to power and reduced them to pawns. He finally understood the root of his fathers' madness. He could not accept failure.

Lucius once again dropped his anger with disturbing alacrity, his expression once again being replaced with a calm smile. "Ginevra will comply because she knows where she belongs. She secretly wishes to return to me and she will reject the error of her ways."

Draco looked at his father, confused.

"I have been patient with you, Draco, too patient, and you've proven yourself unworthy. I've been patient with Ginevra as well, hoping to train her to be a proper wife, but she requires a different form of persuasion."

The older man lifted his cane, staring thoughtfully at the silver handle as he spoke. "I had actually suspected something was amiss almost from the beginning, you see. Unfortunately, the first few months after her, ahem, accident, I was a bit preoccupied with my own affairs," he said, referring to his efforts to keep himself out of Azkaban. He deliberately moved his gaze from his cane to look into his son's eyes, his gaze cold. "But, after that messy business was completed, I found it rather odd that none of her precious family seemed to give any indication of mourning her passing."

He gave a dramatic pause and looked speculatively at Draco, an eyebrow raised in question, apparently to gage the younger man's reaction. "Then, imagine my surprise when I realized that, on the anniversary of her death, not a single Weasley went to her grave. I found that to be a bit...odd."

He placed his cane down, his cold smile once again returning, although it bordered on being a grimace. "My marriage last month was only arranged in an attempt to draw Ginevra out and I believe it is working. She will be found, and she will willingly return to me. You will see."

Speechless, Draco said nothing and Lucius once again smiled. "Good day, Draco," he said with finality and turned to leave the shop.

As the door swung closed, Draco released a deep breath, trying to process exactly why his father chose to give him that information. To gloat? To imply that Ginny had only used him as a means to escape and create some sort of jealous reaction? Or to nudge him into possibly trying to make contact with her so that Lucius might determine her whereabouts?

Whatever the reason, Draco found himself overcome with the desire to protect his wife and small child. He clenched his fist in helpless frustration, hoping that the laws being enacted at the Ministry would be enough to at least partially protect them. He silently swore at Potter, willing the dark-haired wizard to expedite his task.

x - x - x - x

Reviews, please!

Apologies for the long wait. I truly did not have time to work on this sooner.


	28. Chapter 28 Choices

Ginny sat alone at her breakfast table, looking forlornly out the window, completely oblivious of the beautiful ocean view outside. By most accounts, it was a lovely location, but she'd grown tired of the view weeks ago. What was only supposed to be a temporary arrangement had left her alone at the little summer cottage for weeks, only a short distance from her brother Bill's house, with no Floo and no contact with the outside world, except for her daily newspaper and an occasional visit from an Auror who came disguised as an elderly neighbor.

She felt like she was slowly going mad.

Dropping the day's paper into the rubbish bin, she sat and stared at the green pattern on her chipped teacup and thought of how the color was the same shade as Harry Potter's eyes.

The thought brought back the embarrassing memory of her childhood crush on the Boy-Who-Lived, and how much had changed since that innocent time. Harry had been her hero once, and she had to sigh when she thought of how he was still trying to be the hero now. She didn't hold it against him because it was, after all, who he was. Nevertheless, she had fully come to realize that the trait that she'd once found endearing now only irritated her endlessly.

She washed the cup and put it away, once again looking out the window vacantly as she thought about her current situation. She'd agreed to be hidden away in an isolated, Unplottable location because it was the best possible plan that Harry had suggested, given the short notice, but she had not thought that she'd be left there for nearly two months, with no end in sight.

She silently cursed her childhood hero, wondering if he'd forgotten about her entirely.

From what her Auror contact had last told her, Harry was acting on her behalf to find a way to free her from Lucius and her marriage contract, but the progress was painfully slow. While she understood that Harry had worked hard in the two years since she'd escaped Malfoy Manor to enact new laws, the problem was that Lucius needed to be caught breaking one of those laws. Building a case took time, and Harry was far too decent and honest to do it in anything other than the proper way.

She'd been brought to the cottage only a few days after her birthday, although it was a decision that she and Draco had made with great reluctance. They had talked about the possibility of remaining in their Muggle lives, but word had come from the Aurors that Ginny and her son were being listed as missing persons in the Muggle papers. They'd even gone so far as to post a picture of her, taken from her birthday portrait and upon seeing it, they knew it would only be a matter of time before someone recognized her and reported her location. It became alarmingly clear that it had become impossible for Ginny to remain in their home.

As a result, Ginny was relocated to the cottage almost immediately and it had been one of the saddest days of her life. It was the day that she'd been forced to leave her happy Muggle life behind. It was the day that Draco returned to the magical world so that he could be available to work with the Aurors more directly. And, it was the day that her sweet little Alex had been placed with Bill and Fleur, because a newly relocated witch and toddler would clearly draw attention, and Alex could easily pass as a sibling to Fleur's other blond children, making it easy for him to blend in.

Harry had truly tried to put her someplace where she would be comfortable, and, in the beginning, she passed the lonely days by taking solace in the lovely ocean view that the small cottage offered, with the hope that it would only be for a short time. She read books, practiced her long under-used spellwork, and even attempted to learn to play the small piano that sat in the corner.

But one week of isolation turned into two, then four, and while each week offered her hope, she soon came to realize that even the prettiest of places could be a prison after a while.

Every morning, she woke up missing her lover's presence and, every night, she longed to give her little boy his hug and kiss goodnight. She wondered if Alex missed her, if he was getting along with Bill's other children, and if he was happy and eating properly.

The days dragged by with agonizing slowness. When four weeks turned into six, then seven, Ginny suddenly realized that she'd missed nearly two full months of her small son's childhood.

It was on the morning of her forty-ninth day that she found herself glaring at a picture in the daily newspaper. It was of Draco, having lunch with some witch that she didn't recognize. The accompanying article told a carefully fabricated tale of his recent return from travels abroad and the successful potions business that he and Severus Snape had developed. As was typical of the paper, the facts were quite sensationalized, making Draco appear both tragic and heroic for his role during the war. The article had even insinuated that he was quite the popular and eligible bachelor.

There was nothing incriminating about the photograph. Draco hardly appeared to be enamored with the witch. In fact, Ginny was aware that he was working with an Auror who might need to take Ginny's place to potentially trap Lucius. It was highly likely that picture was merely a business meeting about exactly that.

She tossed the paper into the rubbish, but logic continued to evade her. The isolation and the loneliness left her with far too much time to think. In the magical world, almost nobody outside of her family knew about their relationship and, at least legally, Draco was quite available. Her heart clenched in fear at the idea of witches trying to catch his attention.

She desperately wanted their Muggle life back.

Ginny paced back and forth, thinking of the article about Draco and peering down into the rubbish barrel again, only to see the annoying picture staring tauntingly up at her from the depths of the basket.

After staring at the photograph, she decided that she had had enough. She couldn't remain tucked away forever or she would surely go mad.

She needed to see Alex immediately. Just one little visit. There was no indication that Lucius had found them out yet, so she concluded that she could spare one afternoon to hold her little son, play with him, and get some reassurance that she still had her family.

The cottage was intended to be for seasonal use only and didn't have a Floo, so, after hiding her features under large sunglasses, a hair-color charm and a large floppy hat, she walked stubbornly down the road toward Bill and Fleur's house. Her fears continued to plague her during the entire journey. She'd been a fool for believing the last two years could have possibly been real. It had been quite a lovely dream but she was quite sure that it was going to die quite quickly if they all remained apart. Perhaps it already had.

Draco might forget her and move on, but she was even more terrified of Alex growing up apart from her, forgetting about her entirely.

When the cottage finally appeared around the bend, she had to force herself not to appear too eager. She was certain that she wasn't easily recognizable in her disguise, and the cottage itself was under an Unplottable spell; nevertheless, she approached cautiously, checking for any sign that it might be under watch. Satisfied that it was safe, she marched onto the grounds.

As soon as Ginny entered the area behind the Unplottable spell, she caught sight of Fleur out in the garden, playing with the children. The pretty blond witch looked up at the intruder, immediately reaching for her wand, and Ginny found herself grateful for the other woman's diligence. Whipping off the large hat that hid her features, she looked at her sister-in-law pleadingly. "It's only me, Fleur. I need to see him."

Seeing the desperation in Ginny's eyes, Fleur nodded in understanding and lowered her wand. She stepped away, allowing Alex to catch sight of his mother. The little boy looked up curiously, dropped his toy, and ran to her immediately, squealing in delight. "Mummy!"

She thought her heart would melt. Her little boy hadn't forgotten her after all. She tossed aside the hat and glasses as she ran to her sweet son. "Oh, my baby!" she said tearfully, embracing the toddler. "Mummy missed you so much."

"I been good Mummy," he said, hugging her back, and she found herself covering his plump pink cheeks with kisses.

"I knew you would be, Baby. I knew it." She pulled back long enough to look him over thoroughly, running her fingers through his soft, blond hair. "Oh, you got so big!"

Tears sprung to her eyes as she looked at him. She'd missed so much. In only a few weeks of time, he'd grown noticeably. Even his speech had improved dramatically. This had to end, and it had to end soon, even if it meant that she had to march back to Lucius and take care of this herself. She wasn't going to survive if she had to miss her son's childhood.

Fleur gave her an encouraging smile, leaving them alone as she continued to push her own son on the swings. Seeing Alex's delight with Ginny, little Bill started to squirm that he wanted to go greet the visitor as well. Ginny had a moment of regret that Bill's son had no idea who she even was. She'd spent the past two years hiding among Muggles, with minimal contact with her family. It was another injustice that simply had to stop.

Alex had taken her hand and had started babbling about his latest toy that his Granpa had given him, about the playset, and whatever small item caught his interest at the moment. Ginny felt her eyes moisten with tears over and over but she paid apt attention to everything the little one told her. How could she ever have thought she'd be content with only seeing him for the afternoon?

At dinner that night, she informed Bill and Fleur of her decision.

"I'm taking him back with me," she said.

"Ginny, it's not a good idea," Bill responded, looking quite concerned. "Nothing's changed. Ron's been working with the Aurors, but they need more time to find a way to make certain they can get to you if Lucius tries anything. A mother and child together with your description will be a beacon to someone who might be looking for you."

"I don't care, Bill. I can't do this anymore. This could drag on for months. I could go back to live with the Muggles somewhere. The publicity has died down about the Muggle article about me. We were going to go back eventually, anyway."

"Ginny, it's still too soon. The Muggles ... Harry and Hermione say that they could have a way to look out for you for months yet."

"And while I wait my son grows up without me?" she retorted. "How much longer before he starts to call Fleur, 'Mum?' Hmm?" She looked apologetically at Fleur who looked at her with understanding but said nothing.

"I'll take him with me to the other cottage for now. We can wait there together for a few days until we can come up with something more permanent."

"I'd rather not move him, Ginny. He's too small to Apparate; it will make him sick, and if we take him outside the wards, there's a chance of you being noticed. And what about bringing baby supplies to the cottage? At some point, he's going to need to interact with other children."

"We'll manage. Please, Bill, please."

x - X – x

The man hired to watch the location of Bill Weasley's Unplottable cottage hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary in the area for the last two months. The job had been dull beyond words, but since he was paid rather well for the mundane work, he continued his task dutifully.

He hardly took notice of an older woman - a neighbor he supposed - who stopped by to visit one day. He would have discounted the visit entirely, except that when she left very late that evening, he presumed after staying for dinner, she was carrying a rather large bundle on her hip. Bill Weasley was escorting her, trying to hide the view of the bundle. Weasley's walk was casual, but the watcher could tell that the red-haired man was clearly on guard.

His gaze followed the woman as she trod up the path, every so often adjusting the package on her hip. It was when a tiny shoe-clad foot popped out of the bundle and he heard the telltale squeak of a child that he knew he might be the lucky man to would earn a year's bonus on top of his regular paycheck.

Getting out of his hiding place and recasting his disillusion charms, he followed the woman up the road.

x - X - x

Lucius Malfoy, despite being demanding, had always known when to be patient.

He'd been patient waiting for the Dark Lord to initiate a return. He'd been patient as each government had come and gone, each time rebuilding his own life. And he had remained unrelentingly patient in his goal to have his perfect life and family.

The Dark Lord had come and gone, leaving Lucius still with his wealth and status. The Ministry had come and gone and been rebuilt, yet he remained in power and control. And now, Ginevra ...

When his dear Ginevra had "died" in the mysterious fire, Lucius had not initially suspected foul play, at least from her. He'd truly believed that she had died. The facts seemed to point toward a jealous competitor from within Voldemort's ranks and, for the first few weeks, he'd actually mourned the loss of his wife, and more importantly, the loss of the son she'd carried.

The funeral had convinced him that she'd truly gone. He'd scanned the faces and minds of most of the Weasleys in attendance and had been certain that, if there was any chance of deception, at least one of them would give some indication that she wasn't truly dead. But their actions and their grief had been quite real at the time.

Still, he'd hired people to check when no obvious suspect had emerged. The investigators had even traveled to other Wizarding communities all over the world looking for any traces of a newly relocated witch and child. After a year, none had emerged. He had nearly been satisfied.

It was on the anniversary of Ginevra's death that he realized that not a single Weasley family member seemed to remember the loss of the girl in even the smallest way.

The idea made him smile to himself. His wife was devious and clever to have escaped him. She was worthy of being a Malfoy and he enjoyed the idea of bringing her back.

That was when he decided to test the theory that she might truly be alive, and to initiate something that might draw her out of hiding.

His plan had been relatively simple, and he'd courted several potential wives after that, his reasoning being that, if he was, Merlin forbid, incorrect, he would prefer that he at least be attached to a suitable wife. After choosing one that seemed adequate, although hardly of the caliber of beauty that he had found in Narcissa or Ginevra, he once again found himself in a quiet, private marriage ceremony.

When he was struck with the pain before the vows could be completed, he knew for certain that young Ginevra was truly alive. She had truly managed to escape from him.

The game was on, and he enjoyed it quite well. Having hired only the best to track the movements of many of the Weasley clan, he was quite certain that it would only be a matter of time before a mistake was made, and his errant wife would be returned.

- x - X - x

Her first week with Alex at her own cottage had gone well, Ginny thought. They would need to relocate soon, since summer was drawing to a close, but at least the nagging loneliness had been held at bay while she was caring for her little son.

After a few days of setting into a routine with Alex at the cottage, Ginny had almost started to relax a bit and enjoy her surroundings. She could almost imagine that they were only on holiday and that everything would go back to normal soon.

They were celebrating the end of their first week together and the day was particularly sunny; one of the last warm days before fall was truly ready to set in. Ginny was doing the wash, playing with her magic as she set the bedding out to dry in the fresh autumn breeze. Alex was playing right behind her, and she had only taken her gaze off of him for a few minutes while she folded the sheets.

When she looked up to check on her little one, she caught sight of a colorful kite waving in the breeze behind one of the dunes and then saw the glimpse of her son's bright blond hair as he disappeared over the dune to explore closer to the kite.

"Alex! Stop!"

But the bouncing steps of the adventurous child never slowed as he persisted on his quest. The wards that kept them hidden ended at the dunes, and Alex was making a determined effort to get to the other side as quickly as his chubby legs could carry him.

She dropped her damp laundry and raced after him, shouting the entire way.

He was only a few steps beyond the boundary when she finally reached him, managing to scoop him up and scold him soundly. She ignored his quivering lip as he readied himself for a toddler-sized fit of bawling for not getting his way.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she turned to take the few steps back toward safely, but, in that instant, she felt a sharp jolt in her back and her world went dark as she dropped unconscious.

- x - X - x

Several hours later, Ginny found herself in the beautifully decorated family room at the manor, her shirt torn, her hair disheveled, and her face streaked with tears.

She cursed herself for not heeding Bill's warning.

She paced endlessly. She'd been trapped in the room for hours with no sign of anyone, not even a house elf. She had no idea of what had become of her son.

At her wits end, she started pounding on the door of the room again, her hands still sore and bruised from the many times she'd tried before. She knew it was useless, but she continued anyway, crying out in frustration when the heavy paneled wood failed to yield.

She dropped to the floor in defeat and stared hatefully at the door, exhausted. She didn't expect it to open, but, to her great surprise, it finally did only to reveal Lucius Malfoy, looking just as imposing and haughty as she remembered. Her gaze immediately riveted to the small boy he was holding casually and she scrambled to her feet as they entered the room. Her heart sank when she saw that Alex was happily babbling to Lucius about something.

Lucius ignored the child while he took in Ginny's distraught expression, and his lips curved into a wicked smile. He merely began speaking as if nothing were out of the ordinary. "Alex and I have had a lovely day getting acquainted. The boy is quite advanced for his age, Ginevra. You've done well with him."

She ignored his remark and raced forward, reaching out, her eyes focused solely on the child. "Give him to me."

He lifted his wand, waving it casually and uttering a spell that stopped her short of reaching them.

She pushed desperately against the barrier that blocked her from Alex, who was looking confused by the altercation. Lucius merely lifted the boy in his arms and smiled playfully at the child, who smiled back. He was making Alex think it was simply a game.

Lucius turned back to her, smiling condescendingly. "Come now, my dear. You wouldn't think that I'd hurt my own progeny, would you?"

She shoved at the barrier again, staring hatefully at him. "Why don't you ask Draco that same question?" she asked hoarsely, her voice strained from fear and hours of crying.

Lucius scowled at her. "You have no idea what you're talking about. In any case, I've come to escort you to your room, where you will clean up and change into attire that is more becoming of a Malfoy. I will not see you wearing that Muggle trash," he said, motioning to her jeans and trainers.

"Let me hold my son," she demanded.

Confused by his mother's tone of voice, Alex started to fuss and struggle in Lucius's grasp. Lucius's smile quickly turned to a frown of annoyance and he lowered the barrier that blocked Ginny. He shifted the child into Ginny's eager arms. "Only because it pleases me to do so," he said.

Cuddling the toddler, Ginny walked with Lucius back to the suite of rooms that she hated. She'd been hoping never to lay eyes on the place as long as she lived, but fate hadn't been willing to comply. She found herself trembling as she neared the door. Her thoughts filled her with dread, as she wondered if she was once again going to be forced into sleeping with this man.

Alex sensed her fear and started to cry, clinging tightly to her.

"It's alright, my little man," she said as soothingly as she could.

Walking into her old bedroom, she noticed a small toddler bed near the window. Otherwise, the room was unchanged.

"I'll watch the boy while you ready yourself for dinner," he informed her. She stared at her husband, frozen in place. The thought of turning Alex over into his care caused her a cold chill to run through her. Lucius merely smiled maliciously in response. The standoff between the two only lasted a few seconds, unfortunately, because Alex wasn't cooperating. Ginny's nervousness had caused Alex to start squirming in her arms and he was demanding to be put down.

She had little choice, because her son's fussing was becoming unmanageable, and she reluctantly set the boy on the floor. As soon as his feet touched the carpet, he forgot his small tantrum and began to run around in an effort to explore the cheerfully decorated room.

"Alexander, come with me. Your mother needs to take a bath," Lucius commanded.

If she hadn't been so terrified, she might have found the sight endearing. The little boy stopped immediately after hearing the command, set a very Draco-like frown on his face, and, after a huff of annoyance, stomped over to the tall man.

"Awwright," he said.

"We'll go explore my room," Lucius said, taking the little one's hand. "Besides, my son, we have much to catch up on..."

Ginny cringed at his wording, but said nothing. She wanted so badly to escape from the house but, while Lucius had her son, she was helpless. She would wait for her chance. It appeared he had no intention of hurting "his son," so she took a moment to calm down. She might have to endure some sort of punishment, but, as long as Alex was safe, she could afford to wait until an opportunity arose for the both of them to escape, or for help to arrive.

The elf laid out a beautiful, fitted, sapphire blue gown for her to wear. Ginny looked half- heartedly at the dress. Once, when she was a child, she'd loved clothing like this and had dreamed of owning something so beautiful. Now, she could only see it as a form of bondage. She finished her bath quickly and put on the dress, allowing the elf to fix her hair.

Lucius and Alex were awaiting her in Lucius' sitting room, the child playing with a small statue that Lucius normally kept on his desk. Lucius smiled as the boy handed the item to him and then went to retrieve something else. In a way, it was a lovely scene between a grandfather and grandson.

While she had bathed, someone had dressed Alex in a navy blue suit with short pants for dinner. He looked to be the perfect picture of an aristocratic child. He was being so good, responding to Lucius so very seriously, and looking up at the imposing man with admiration. Her heart clenched, thinking that he'd been without his own father for far too long and therefore was obviously drawn to Lucius.

The moment was interrupted by a shout of "Mummy!" as Alex dropped the crystal ball in his hand and ran up to greet her. She immediately picked the child up to hug him, since physical contact with her son seemed to be the only thing that comforted her in this horrible situation.

Lucius rose formally in greeting. "Ginevra, you are as beautiful as I remember," he said, his tone gracious and polite. Then, he turned to the boy. "Doesn't your mother look beautiful, Alex?"

"Mummy pretty!" he peeped, giving her a hug. Despite herself, she smiled.

"Mother *is* pretty," Lucius corrected, taking Alex back and placing him on the floor. While he had the child's attention, he lectured, "You must learn to address your parents properly, my boy."

Obviously not understanding, Alex still looked at the white-haired man with wide eyes and nodded seriously.

"We will go to dinner now. Take my hand," he commanded gently. Ginny looked in awe at how patient and loving her husband seemed to be at the moment. She wondered if that was how he behaved with Draco when he was the same age.

As they walked out of the room, Alex stopped, tugged on his grandfather's hand and looked back at his mother. "Mummy, come on!" he demanded, reaching for her with his free hand. She took it, and together the three walked hand-in-hand to the dining room.

- x – X – x -

Dinner was a relatively quiet event. Ginny ate very little because most of the affair involved helping her son with his meal, though she had little appetite anyway due to the nervous stress of the situation. Alex sat in a booster seat, chasing peas around his plate with a spoon. Eventually, the child resorted to stuffing the food items into his mouth with his fingers while Lucius looked on, his expression a mixture of annoyance and amusement.

"I'd forgotten that children his age are still somewhat ... untrained," he said calmly as he observed the interaction.

She nodded, ignoring the mashed potatoes that had somehow been flipped onto her once pristine gown. The remark, under any other circumstances, might have been amusing, but humor was something she couldn't quite associate with Lucius.

After the meal, they walked upstairs together, Alex's dress suit no longer perfect, but it didn't seem to matter. Lucius watched as she readied the boy for bed, appearing fascinated by everything she and Alex did. She then changed into her most modest silk nightgown and the three sat on an ornate couch in her room while Lucius continued to talk to the boy, telling him a story about dragons, with frequent interruptions for lectures on proper behavior.

As they both went to her room to tuck the toddler into bed, Ginny once again felt cold fear grip her as Lucius put his arm around her. Surely, he wouldn't rape or beat her with the child so very close by, she reasoned, but there was no telling with this man. She began to tense in fear.

"Goodnight, my little wizard," Lucius said fondly to the child, kissing him on the forehead.

After he moved away, Ginny stroked Alex's soft blond hair, kissing him as well and the little boy gave her a sleepy, "Goodnight."

"Come Ginevra, we have much to discuss," he said taking two steps toward his room.

She froze. One hand gripping the side of the child's bed while her feet solidly planted themselves, causing her to stand rigidly in place. She could feel her entire body begin to tremble.

Lucius turned back when he noticed she was not following. Raising an eyebrow in question, he took one step toward her and noted how her body immediately shrunk back away from him.

"Ginevra, do not be childish. I do not wish to discuss such things in front of the boy."

She nodded. Long months of memories surfaced and she debated about arguing, knowing that nothing good would come of it. Her eyes filled with terrified tears and her feet felt like lead weights as she forced herself to move toward his bedroom.

- x - X – x -

Walking into the bedroom behind Lucius, Ginny felt cold fear engulf her entire body.

As soon as the door closed, she finally had a chance to speak the words that had been gnawing at her since the moment she saw Lucius holding Alex. "I don't want you anywhere near my son."

"Come now, Ginevra. As you can see, I have no intentions of harming the child."

She narrowed her eyes, staring at him with as much venom as she could manage. "Not yet."

He snarled in anger. "Do not taunt me, witch. You are lucky to be alive right now after what you've done. Do not tempt me to change my mind about that."

"You want him to love you. Just like Draco loved you when he was a child. And if he loves you, he'll want to be like you and follow the Dark ways. I'm not stupid, Lucius."

"Do not speak of that failure in front of me!"

"Draco is your son. And he is anything but a failure."

"Enough!" he snarled.

She'd spent two years away from him and had enjoyed every minute of it. The world had changed and he no longer held all the power. She refused to let him intimidate her. He was nothing but a bully. She stood a bit taller.

"Draco is your son."

"I told you never to speak of him," he said in a low, menacing growl.

"I will speak of whomever I like," she continued, trying to sound more brave than she felt. She needed to talk, to distract him, maybe even reason with him. "You loved Narcissa, Lucius. Draco is her son as well. You can't deny that."

He said nothing, which was far more frightening to Ginny. Instead, he walked behind her slowly. She stood her ground, her back stiff with fear. She had no wand, no way to defend herself.

"You know what became of her, because of her failings, yet you continue to try my patience," he said coldly as he came up behind her. She could feel his breath in her ear as he spoke. "You are my wife now, Ginevra. We are bound together for life. You cannot deny that," he said, mocking her earlier words.

Slowly he moved her hair aside and began to caress her neck. She felt her body cringe away from his touch in horror. Legally, even magically, she was bound to him, but the thought of resuming marital relations with him was unacceptable. She'd done what she had to do three years ago because she had no other alternatives. She'd entered the marriage and accepted the terms at the time because, if she hadn't, members of her family would die.

But two wonderful years with Draco and her son had changed that. Now, she would rather die than spend another night in Lucius' bed.

She took a single step forward, away from his touch, then turned.

"I am not your toy, Lucius. Your power from your Dark Lord is gone. I will not play this game."

His eyes darkened in anger. "The Dark Lord is gone, yet I survive. You should reconsider your words." He took another step forward, as if to reach his hand for her neck again. She had a fleeting thought that he might snap it. She stepped back again, standing as tall and rigid as her small frame could manage.

"You are my wife, Ginevra. This marriage contract can only be broken by death. I will convince you to yield to me."

She stepped past him and strode purposefully to her bedroom door.

"No, Lucius," she said firmly, as she retreated her own bedroom, closing the door soundly behind her.

- x – X – x -

Draco walked into work, entering the small potions shop just like he had done every morning for the past two months. It had become a comfortable routine, one that gave him some sense of normalcy since he'd returned to the magical section of London.

He opened the door, acknowledging the ironically cheerful tinkling of the bell as he entered, and gave a nod to the shop's dour-faced proprietor, Severus Snape. After hanging up his cape, he quietly settled into his work, brewing the day's orders, bottling and labeling each item carefully. Typically, by late morning, he could move on to researching some of the private projects that he and Snape had been working on. Of course, as an apparent young bachelor, it was expected that he might be seen occasionally with female company, and he did often meet with a witch at lunch or dinner.

Outwardly, the routine was quite ordinary, intended to lull anyone watching him into boredom. However, it was not all that it appeared. His typical lunch dates were undercover Aurors, and their conversation rarely went beyond discussing security wards at his father's home, or potential laws being enacted that might bring his father's illegal activities to light, or progress that he and Snape were making on Dark Magic that had been used during Voldemort's unethical rule.

In short, Draco did not enjoy his life nearly as much as it appeared to the outside world. In public, he smiled, even appeared to flirt, yet in private, he worked and worried and waited.

So, when he walked into work that morning, nodded to Snape and settled into his work, he gave a deep sigh, once again hoping that there would be some change in his situation, allowing him to reunite with his family. As the morning wore on, however, he once again resigned himself to the fact that this day would be no different from any other.

Then, shortly before lunch, Draco got his wish, however it wasn't at all welcome or expected. An urgent owl arrived from Bill Weasley. It was short and quite to the point.

She's gone missing.

The potion that he'd started was left brewing dangerously in its cauldron as he grabbed his cape and walked out of the shop without so much as a word to anyone.


	29. Chapter 29 The Fire Within

- x -

Ginny awoke when the first rays of sunlight began streaming in through her bedroom window. It didn't immediately register that something about the angle of the light and the softness of the bed linen was wrong.

She felt almost drugged. She knew she hadn't been, but the worry, the fear, and the attempt to share a bed with a constantly-moving two-year old boy left her with almost no sleep. The little rest that she'd managed was light and only due to sheer exhaustion.

She found herself very much amazed that she'd made it through the night unscathed. Lucius had, for some bizarre reason, not pressed the matter when she'd denied him. Somehow, she could not quite accept her good fortune.

Alex stirred as the morning light brightened the cheerfully decorated room, smiling when he saw her.

Despite the direness of her situation, the sight of her sleepy-eyed little boy comforted her. "Good morning, my little love," she said warmly. Alex's restless tossing during the night had been a mixed blessing. It had left her with little rest, but she needed to feel the warm comfort of her son beside her to know that he was safe.

He smiled sleepily at her and she found herself smiling back, momentarily letting herself forget about where they were. It was almost a happy moment, but it didn't last long.

"I see you are awake," a gruff voice said from the doorway.

Ginny turned her head to see Lucius, already quite awake and meticulously dressed, as was usual for him. He gave her a cold smile.

"I suggest you get dressed, Ginevra. We have a busy day ahead of us."

She wanted to retort something about not being willing to do any such thing, but Alex chose that moment to yawn, stretch and smile widely at Lucius. Arguing in front of the child would likely only cause problems, and she didn't want to do anything that might cause Lucius to separate her from her son. She held her tongue.

She was, without a doubt, emotionally spent.

Dropping her chin in resignation, she began to slowly move covers aside and reach for her dressing gown. When she turned back toward Lucius, she saw that her son had hopped off the bed and was holding a soft toy and eagerly smiling up at the man. Her breath caught in her throat. The picture, if taken out of context might have been described as sweet but, for Ginny, it was nothing but alarming. She scrambled off the bed, her sudden movement catching Lucius' attention.

"So glad that you decided to join us, Ginevra," he said smoothly. For the second time, she was at a loss for words, looking to snatch her son away from the man who she clearly saw as a threat, yet, not willing to act rashly in front of the child.

"I didn't sleep well last night," she responded sarcastically, attempting to keep the topic as neutral as possible.

"Was the bedding not to your liking, perhaps?" he asked, his tone mocking, knowing that the linens were among the finest made, as if he was well aware that the rough sheets and harder mattress in her own home could never compare. She ignored his tone, and simply responded, "Sleeping with a two year old can be a challenge."

Lucius gave a small sniff of disdain. "He's too old to be crawling into bed with his parents, although I'll make an allowance for the unusual circumstances," he retplied. "And if you require a bed partner, perhaps we should consider a proper alternative."

The insinuation immediately brought thoughts of Draco, and how she desperately missed sleeping next to the man she considered to be her true husband. She wondered if she'd ever see him again.

Lucius walked away from the child, who had lost interest in the adults in favor of the small arsenal of toys splayed around on the carpet. As he approached her, calmly and surely, she realized that he was once again playing one of his games of intimidation, toying with her emotions, watching how he could manipulate her by implying threats against her or her loved ones. He didn't have to lay a hand on her to be cruel.

"I mean, my dear wife, that it is time for us to give a proper example for our son and share our bedroom."

She felt fear, dread and a sense of oncoming defeat. He'd done nothing yet, but she doubted that he would have brought her here without some sort of plan. She wondered how long it would be before her family discovered she was missing and, more importantly, she wondered how long it would be before they might be able to gain entry to the well-warded manor. She had to stall for time, if not for her own safety, then for the sake of her son.

"I … I'm not sure I understand why you'd want that, or what that would accomplish. I am a prisoner here, nothing more. Sooner or later, someone will come to retrieve me."

He smiled, his plans already laid, she was certain. "Why would they retrieve you if you have no desire to leave?"

She barked a harsh laugh. "Surely you must be joking, Lucius."

"Then, you wish to leave Alex with me?"

She felt the blood drain from her face. She'd feared that he would try something and, worse, she feared what his reaction would be when he discovered Alex's true parentage. If pressed, she would tell him the truth, but only if she felt that Alex wouldn't be in danger. "I do not," she said, as forcefully as she could manage.

Alex looked up from his toys, the brewing argument drawing his attention and she was well aware of the fact that Lucius wanted her son much more than he wanted her. But she also knew that he very much wanted his perfect family.

He spoke calmly, but his voice held a hard edge. "Legally, Alex is my son and he will remain with me. Don't be so foolish as to think that I haven't already secured the appropriate paperwork. If you choose to leave, I will not stop you, but you will leave alone."

"He's …" i_not your son_/i. She stopped herself from speaking the words, although every part of her wanted to tell the truth. When he'd caught her with Draco, he'd threatened to kill her child if he suspected the child was Draco's, and, while Lucius seemed to be happily bonding with Alex at the moment, she wasn't certain that it would be enough to protect the boy from the elder Malfoy's cold anger should he find out about Alex's real father.

Lucius didn't seem bothered by the fact that she'd failed to complete her sentence. He merely seemed confident that he had full control of the situation. Looking at her somewhat chastisingly. "Come now, Ginevra. This is not a conversation to be had in front of the child," he stated. Snapping his fingers, he summoned a house elf and ordered it to watch over Alex. "We will discuss this in my room."

She bristled, readying herself to argue about leaving Alex, but he glared at her. "There are some lessons that neither of us wish Alex to learn just yet."

His words and mannerism implied that he wouldn't hesitate to use physical force against her, even in front of Alex. She looked toward her son and gave a defeated sigh. Oddly, she agreed with Lucius. She didn't want Alex to learn such a lesson just yet either.

She looked toward her sweet little boy, who had taken notice of the elf and moved to play with it as if it was another child. Lucius frowned at the action, but motioned for Ginny to follow him into the adjoining room.

As soon as he closed the door behind them, she allowed herself to speak her mind. "You know perfectly well that I won't leave him," she told him firmly. Her success in walking away from him the previous evening giving her the courage to continue her rebellion. "I am his mother and I have a right to keep him with me."

Lucius merely looked annoyed, as if he'd been expecting her tirade. "We will not have this conversation, Ginevra," he said with annoyance. "The contract that you signed with me states that I have a right to my children, in accordance to traditional marital law. You are my wife and you will obey me in this matter."

She seethed with fury. He was using the damnable contract against her again and she was fully sick of it. Her voice rose and she nearly shouted back at him. "I signed that contract under duress, because you held the lives of my family hostage! I'll be happy to fight you on this Lucius. I will not submit to this or to you any longer."

He raised his cane and, for a brief moment, she thought that he would strike her, but instead he only gripped the ornate silver head of the item fiercely as the anger flashed in his eyes. She shuddered with relief.

"If you strike me again, I'll make sure that the Aurors are informed. There are laws now."

He snarled in response but, then, his look changed to an evil smile. "I thought we had reached an equitable agreement, Ginevra. We'd been getting along so well before you left. Tell me, who helped you to plan your escape?"

The sudden change of topic took her aback. "Does it really matter?"

"I will find out everything, with time. Don't worry, I am quite certain Draco was involved. I only want to know tto what extent and how it was achieved." He studied her further, as if she were some sort of laboratory specimen. "I'm rather interested in how he got past the wards. You both have proven to be quite clever, and I rather find that quality to be an admirable trait to be passed down to my progeny."

"Wonderful," she said, disgust evident in her voice.

He seemed to come to a conclusion, still not approaching her but walking toward his desk. "I am willing to move forward, dear wife, but I cannot have you corrupting my children. You are far too much trouble as it is."

He appeared contemplative for a moment and then opened one of the drawers in the desk. Extracting a vial of smokey gray potion, he turned back to her. "I'd like for you to drink this."

She backed away slowly, her eyes focusing on the little vial with fear and knowing that no good could come of her drinking it.

"I don't care for what you'd like for me to do."

Somehow, she knew that this was the potion that Lucius had been working on with Lestrange, the one that they'd tested using captured Muggles. It had been the central focus of Lucius's work for months, and she'd caught small snippets of conversations on several occasions when the two men were discussing its development.

The potion was intended to destroy a person's memories and make them pliable for whatever personality traits that a good Legilimens might want to impress upon the victim. Draco had suggested that if she stayed that they would eventually use the potion on her. He'd been right. She now understood that it had probably always been Lucius's goal to use the potion on her once it was perfected. The only reason that Lucius had never attempted to give it to her sooner was because they wouldn't risk using it on her while she was pregnant. Draco had known that. It was why he knew she'd be safe, at least until she gave birth.

A cold chill ran ther her body. She'd seen the effects of that potion once, shortly after Draco had been banished from the manor. She'd been wandering around the mansion for no unusual reason and she'd accidentally found one of the Muggles that they'd experimented on. The sight had haunted her for weeks.

"Come now, my dear. You will consume it, whether or not this is done with or without discomfort to you is your choice."

She looked desperately toward the door, hoping beyond hope that the Aurors might have found their way to the manor, but the house remained just as haughty and silent as it always had. Surely, there could be some sort of charges levied against Lucius for kidnapping her, at least enough to delay him taking custody of Alex. At the very least, if she was forced to remain married to this man, she might be able to find a way for Alexander to live with his real father, but only if she could keep her mind intact.

As Lucius stalked toward her, she realized that she was running out of time and she had no means of escape. He approached slowly and methodically, forcing her to back into a wall, a chaise blocking her escape toward her own room.

"If you take it willingly, I will not harm the child."

The words ripped her thoughts away from any plans for escape. "What?"

Lucius gave an evil smile, knowing that he had total control due to her one weakness.

"Alexander will need an initiation into the Dark ways soon enough. If he survives, it will only make him stronger."

"You wouldn't!" Panic rose. Her heart pounded and her palms became damp with a fearful sweat. She looked about wildly, wanting to escape, desperately wanting to get back to her son. Her vision started to blur with unwelcome tears. Her worst nightmare was becoming reality and she didn't know how she could stop it.

He spoke again, laughing slightly at her reaction. "Of course I wouldn't. Ginevra, don't be a fool. But I will kill Draco, and I do know that you are quite fond of him."

Then he stepped closer, holding the potion bottle out. She needed to buy time and she had run out of words to create a diversion. If she took the potion, she was quite certain that all would be lost.

She sobbed, staring at the little bottle in fear, and shook her head, hoping beyond hope that he might take pity on her. "I don't want to forget..."

"We both know that it will be best for all of us if you do."

She made a run for the door, hoping that she might be able to get to Alex and at possibly escape to another part of the house, buying time if Lucius had to search for her. Her only small advantage was that it appeared that Lucius didn't wish to appear violent in front of Alex, at least not while he was working to establish a bond with the boy.

Unfortunately, the long dressing gown that she wore limited her movement, causing her to trip when she tried to leap over the chaise.

He was standing over her only a moment later as she struggled to pick herself up. She rolled into his legs, hoping to trip him, or at the very least, force him to break the vial. It almost worked - he fell - but the thick carpet cushioned the glass from breaking.

Still on the floor, she cursed and scrambled toward the bottle, hoping to crush it. But as her fingers curled around the glass, his hand wrapped around her wrist in a painful grip, forcing her to release the bottle.

Placing his knee on her arm, he used his body weight to pin her to the floor as he grabbed the vial, uncorking it quickly before she could wriggle out of his grasp.

"I do not wish to harm you, Ginevra. This is for the best," he said calmly. Too calmly. In a moment of frightening clarity, she realized that he truly believed that he was doing her a favor.

His knees were on either side of her body, pinning her arms to the floor so that she could do little more than attempt to kick at him weakly. He was too heavy for her to move and she cursed herself for not being stronger, faster, or cleverer. Ignoring her struggles with a disturbing lack of emotion, he quickly managed to pry her mouth open and pour the contents of the vial in. She tried to spit it out, but he dropped the empty bottle and held her mouth closed. Eventually, a few drops dribbled down her throat when the reflexive urge to swallow overcame her will.

She'd lost.

The sorrow at the realization overwhelmed her. She didn't know exactly what the potion's effects would be, but she knew she didn't want to face them. She closed her eyes, allowed one tear to escape, and closed her mind just as she'd done night after night in this bedroom two long years ago, shutting the real Ginny Weasley away into the dark recesses of her mind for the last time.

- x - X – x -

Ron Weasley stared hatefully at the man seated in the interrogation room, then turned his angry glare toward his long time friend, motioning toward the man they now held in custody. "I can't believe you didn't tell me about him, Harry."

"You know that if I did, you would have done something to give away the fact that we were watching him," Harry replied, somewhat condescendingly.

The tone in Harry's voice made Ron more angry, and he shouted at his longtime friend, "He was watching my brother's house for a month! Damn right I would have done something, and my sister wouldn't have been kidnapped!"

"They would have just found another way, Ron. This way, we can use him as a witness," the dark-haired wizard explained, his voice still patient, despite his friend's obvious fury.

"You used my sister as bait! You knew something would happen to give her away eventually. How could you, Harry?"

Harry turned to his friend, looking slightly guilty. "She wasn't exactly bait, Ron. I would have preferred if we could have used a decoy instead of Ginny, and I would have preferred if Ginny didn't draw them out just yet, but you know that something like this had to happen so we could catch Malfoy in an actual crime."

Ron pointed a finger vehemently at the suspect that they had in custody, his voice shaking in anger toward his friend. "But he hasn't said anything yet! Why aren't we on our way to Malfoy Manor right now?"

Harry remained disturbingly calm and professional while responding to his friend's emotional accusation. "Because we can't get a search order without just cause. This man has to tell us that Malfoy was the person who hired him and that she was taken there, possibly against her will."

The redhead's blue eyes narrowed. "There's one problem, Harry. He's not talking."

Indeed, the suspect seated in the chamber looked annoyed and slightly concerned, but he hardly appeared to be intimidated by his situation, and he most certainly didn't appear to be willing to give them any information. Officially, he'd been doing a job legally and had been paid quite well for his efforts as an investigator. He was loyal to his employer, likely because he'd been well-paid.

Unfortunately, there was no proof that Ginny and Alex had been kidnapped. They needed this man to confess that he might have taken part in an illegal activity, and Harry Potter was far too honest and just to use questionable means to make him talk.

Ron glared at his friend, obviously still furious but clearly at a loss for words.

The redhead was readying himself to emit another blast of heated curses at his soon to be former friend, when the sound of the door opening distracted both men from their argument.

Draco Malfoy's solid form filled the doorway, a dark cape swirling from his shoulders making his build seem broader than Ron remembered.

It was if the atmosphere in the room had changed. There had been tension before, but now, it felt as if the air had become charged with electrical energy, as if lightning was about to strike.

Taking in the formidable sight of his former adversary, Ron suddenly realized that the young Malfoy bully that he'd once despised no longer existed. The man who entered was large and imposing, his eyes dark and smoldering with anger. Although he was neatly dressed, he no longer wore the expensive clothing of a rich, spoiled boy, but that didn't seem to matter. His bearing alone gave him a commanding presense. He was dressed in black, which drew attention to his light blond hair, making his eyes stand out against his pale features, and his cape swirled a round him like black smoke adding to the ominous effect.

He looked every bit the righteous hero of the final battle coming to claim vengeance.

The blond glared angrily as he loooked at the occupants of the room and Ron shuddered involuntarily as that piercing, furious gaze passed over him. He found grateful when the attention of those eyes landed squarely on Harry instead of himself.

Ignoring all the others in the room, he strode purposefully toward Harry, his eyes locked firmly onto his target. "This wasn't supposed to happen this way, Potter. We weren't ready."

Harry stood rigidly, clearly intimidated by the taller man, but held his ground. Then, the dark-haired wizard nodded to the other Aurors that were presen, and, without a word, they exited the room, some looking worriedly at the pair, but not questioning Harry's silent order. Ron watched the interaction, speechless.

After the others had left them alone, Harry answered, "Ginny got a bit impatient and gave herself away." He said the words firmly, but Ron noticed that the confidence in the tone of his voice seemed to waiver.

Malfoy seemed unaffected by Harry's response, as if he'd expected such a statement. The anger in his eyes remained. "And why are you here? You were supposed to summon me so we could start breaking into the manor. Bill had to send me word that she'disappeared and that Alex was with her."

The stubborness in Harry's eyes returned at Malfoy's accusing tone. "We need probable cause, Malfoy. There's no proof she was kidnapped and there's no proof she's located there. We could ruin everything if we don't handle it properly."

In that moment, Ron saw the blond's face twist into the vicious sneer that he remembered so well from his school days. However, he happened to agree with Malfoy's anger, so, this time, he almost welcomed the echo of the old school rivalry. "Then get your probable cause!" Draco growled at Harry.

Ron almost smiled because, for the first time since they'd brought the suspect in, he felt like he had an ally in the room. He decided to interject, pointing an accusing finger at the man seated behind the glass of the interrogation room. "He's right there, Malfoy. We just need to get him to admit that they took her and where."

Harry looked at his friend in alarm. "Ron, he can't. He's not an Auror."

Draco lifted an eyebrow in question and looked at Ron, who nodded firmly. Then blond then turned back to Harry, and stated with utmost certainty, "Oh yes, I can. My wife and son have been kidnapped. I dare you to stop me."

Harry took two steps in the direction of the angry young man, but Ron grabbed his arm to stop him. The dark-haired wizard looked back at his friend, obviously bewildered over the idea that Ron would side with Malfoy. The pause in Harry's movement gave Draco enough time to enter the interrogation room uninhibited.

He walked solidly up to the man in the chair and took out his wand, causing the suspect in the chair to swallow nervously. Draco gave him his coldest smile. "You know who I am?"

"Yes," he replied, and for the first time since he'd been brought into the room, the man dropped his smug look of self-confidence.

Draco leaned over the seated man and dropped his voice to whisper chillingly in the man's ear. "Then, you do know that I spent quite a lot of time with Death Eaters, correct?"

The prisoner nodded, uncertainly. "I know you were touted as some sort of hero at the final battle."

"I'm no hero," Draco replied smoothly. "Not for you, anyway."

The prisoner looked confused and then straightened in his chair, his arrogance returning. "I don't need a hero. I've done nothing wrong."

Draco turned for a moment, looking disdainfully at the man. "Oh, yes you have. You seem to have something to do with the disappearance of my family. I can guarantee that once I'm done with you, you'll wish you had one." He turned and looked over to the two Aurors standing outside the room. Ron was standing behind his friend Harry, his wand drawn. Potter, much to Draco's amusement, looked nervous and a little helpless. Ron gave him a curt nod of approval and Draco returned a wicked smile. He turned back to the prisoner, letting the man see all the anger in his eyes.

"Let me make this perfectly clear," he said coldly to the prisoner. "Living with Death Eaters, you learn a lot of ways to obtain information. There's one spell that is particularly effective. It allows me to incinerate various body parts. So, you can either tell me where my wife and son are, or you can choose where you want me to start."

Seeing what Draco was about to do, Harry took a step forward to stop him but was abruptly pulled back by his best friend. Shortly after, a small puff of smoke rose from the prisoner's shoe followed by a scream of pain and fear. Then, the man couldn't seem to name Lucius Malfoy quickly enough.

For most of his life, Ron Weasley had hated Draco Malfoy with a flaming passion. It was only after Draco's selfless contribution to the final battle that the blond had earned Ron's grudging respect. Then, after two years of making his sister happy, Ron had managed to tolerate him as part of the family. But, now, seeing Draco in front of him, fearlessly defying a roomful of Aurors for the sake of saving his family, Ron found, for the first time in his life, that he actually liked the man.


	30. Chapter 30 Father vs Son

Draco stood alongside Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and a dozen other Aurors outside the mansion that he'd once called his home. Looking up at the forboding marble structure, he took a deep breath and remembered that, as a child, he'd loved this place. He had actually had many, many happy memories of living there when he was young, but that was a lifetime ago, before Voldemort's return, before his mother had died.

Since then, the place had become alien and unwelcome to him. He'd been banned from the property, but he didn't let that stop him from returning once before to rescue Ginny and his child. It wasn't going to stop him from returning to rescue them again.

The property was protected by wards to prevent unwanted visitors, but the wards were based on blood ownership and Draco retained those rights despite his father's legal attempt to disown him. Ancient family wards were devised that way for a reason, to prevent mistakes, to protect the family above the desires of any single family member. Draco had spent enough time studying the spells and knew that it was because of this ancient magic that he still had rights to his former home.

Unfortunately, he needed to be clever about initiating those rights. The spells protecting the property were ancient and complex, and it appeared that Lucius had taken pains to add to the security since Draco had last been there. While the magical defenses could be broken by a family member who had the best intentions for the family in mind, it wasn't an act that could be taken lightly. When Draco had slipped onto the property to rescue Ginny the first time, he'd only needed to access the grounds, which had fewer spells. This time, he needed to gain access to the house itself, which was far more complicated.

On the positive side, he didn't have to work on the puzzle of the wards alone. This time, unlike the day he set fire to the carriage house, he had a team of the Ministry's best Aurors helping him weave his way through the maze of magic that protected the Malfoy property.

Even with the extra help, however, the work was slow and he could barely suppress the feelings of frustration that surged through him as they systematically worked their way through the house's defenses. It was taking too long. He was certain that the woman he loved and the son he adored were in immediate danger.

Ever since Ginny had gone into hiding, a part of him had instinctively known it would come to a day like this. He had known that despite Potter's legal loopholes, or the plans for a Auror to double as Ginny, or any protections that were put in place, that they would eventually exhaust all their other options. He'd also thought he'd been prepared, because he'd spent most of his spare time in recent weeks researching the ancient spells and wards, but still, the process of breaking through had to be slow and methodical for the safety of everyone involved.

Just when he thought that the tension might drive him to become just as insane as his father, the last of the wards fell. He was more than a bit surprised that Lucius didn't seem more aware of their activities but, apparently, he was far too confident that the defenses would be sufficient. Also, he probably didn't suspect that Draco would be among those looking to gain entry to the house. Draco tried not to consider the possibility that his father was simply too preoccupied with being reunited with his wife to notice a handful of intruders near the entrance of the property.

When the door finally opened before him, a house elf appeared almost instantaneously to stare at him with large, surprised eyes. "Young Master! Master is not expecting you home!" it said fearfully, wringing its hands in the typical elf expression of worry.

"No, he's not expecting me. However, I would like to speak with him and let him know that I've returned. Tell me where he is," Draco demanded of the cowering creature.

"Master and Mistress are still in their rooms. Master ordered all meals today to be served in his chambers," the annoying creature explained. Draco didn't wait for the elf to finish his sentence, by the time he'd heard the first words, he was in motion, running up the grand staircase, taking the steps two at a time, Ron Weasley barely a half step behind him.

"Malfoy, wait!" he heard someone call from behind him. It was probably Potter, and he spared a split second to once again marvel at how thick his former rival could manage to be. "We need to do this carefully!" his voice continued with frustration.

Draco ignored them, not caring about their procedures or his own safety. The Weasley by his side apparently agreed, because he continued to keep pace with him as they ascended the stairs, not saying a word in response to the urgent calls.

Reaching the door to the master suite, he only looked over at Ron, who gave him a quick nod of agreement before Draco turned the knob and burst into the room.

The sight that greeted him was unlike anything he could have imagined. Images of Ginny or Alex being hurt and captive had tormented him ever he'd heard they'd disappeared but, of all things, he most definitely had not expected to see Ginny curled up on the sofa, her head resting comfortably on Lucius's shoulder as they both watched Alex play quietly on the floor. All three looked up in surprise at the sound of Draco's abrupt entrance.

Draco felt his jaw drop as both Ginny and Lucius stood, Ginny standing slightly behind Lucius, as if she was afraid and looking for the older man's protection. But he didn't have a chance to study her actions further because Alex jumped up, his blue eyes shining with joy when he recognized the intruder.

"Daddy!"

His relief at seeing Alex unharmed was almost like lifting a physical weight from his heart. It took all his willpower to keep his attention focused on his father while the toddler dropped his toy and excitedly charged toward him. He silently thanked Weasley for standing by his side, wand drawn, to allow him the freedom to acknowledge the child.

Warily watching his father, he dropped down and held his arms open as the little boy began to scurry toward him, trying to hide his worry behind a warm smile for the child.

"Alexander!" Lucius bellowed, the harshness of his voice causing the boy to stop just outside of Draco's reach and look back in confusion. Draco took two steps forward and scooped up his son.

The toddler then turned his attention back to his father, wrapping pudgy little arms around his father's neck as Draco held him tightly.

Alex's smile had faded when he sensed the tension in his father's embrace. Draco ignored him and turned his attention back to Lucius, standing with a now frantic Ginny on the far side of the room.

Ginny had moved from hiding behind Lucius, but she appeared to be both frightened and alarmed. Her expression as she stared at him holding Alex was completely foreign to him. She straightened into a haughty, aristocratic pose. Anger graced her features, but it was unlike anything he'd ever seen from her before. "Unhand my son this instant!" she commanded.

Lucius smiled, an expression that could only be described as cold, evil, and victorious.

Draco quickly glanced over at Ron, whose expression of confusion and surprise clearly echoed his own. Ron's wand was trained on Lucius, yet the man showed no sign of drawing his own to defend himself. By all accounts, the older Malfoy seemed almost cheerful, in an insanely evil sort of way.

Draco shifted Alex so that the child was balanced on his hip, shielding him from being directly in line with Lucius.

"You have no right to be here, Draco. And you bring..." he paused and looked coldly at Ron, "...this filth into my home."

"I have every right to be here, Father, or the wards wouldn't have allowed me through," he responded carefully.

Lucius stood to his full height, Ginny now taking his arm, looking every bit as if she very much belonged by the older man's side. Draco watched the interaction with no small amount of disbelief.

"Ginny..." Draco started to say, but her cold reaction caused his words to catch in his throat.

"You will not address my wife in such an informal manner. Now, she has asked you to unhand our son. You will do so immediately and explain how you came to enter my home."

"We're here to arrest you. The wards allow me to enter if my intention is in the best interest of the family. "

He laughed. "Arrest me for what?"

"Kidnapping."

"Kidnapping who?" he asked, his hand casually motioning about the room. "There is no one here besides us."

"Ginny..."

Ludius's eyes gleamed, and a triumphant smirk graced his thin lips. "Ginevra is here of her own free will," he stated with confidence. He turned to the woman next to him, who looked like Ginny, but who was now clinging to Lucius' arm, bearing no emotional resemblance to the woman Draco loved. "Aren't you Ginevra?" Lucius said, looking down at the woman, who glanced uncertainly between Lucius and the child that Draco was holding.

"Of course, Lucius," she said, now looking over at Ron with suspicion, as if she didn't recognize him.

Draco wanted to spare a glance behind him, briefly wondering why the other Aurors hadn't joined them yet, and then realized that the wards had likely shut down behind him. Ron had accompanied him up the stairs, but the others had fallen behind. Without Draco acting as an escort, they were likely considered uninvited guests who would not have access to the family suite of rooms. They would have to break through the wards on their own and that might take some time. Draco was basically on his own.

"Ginny," Ron began to say. "What's happened to you?"

"My name is Ginevra, or Mrs. Malfoy to you," she responded coldly, appearing surprised at Ron's gall to address her with such familiarity.

Ron looked shocked and Draco fully expected to see Weasley explode into a classic fit of temper at his sister for her behavior. Fortunately, the Auror training had taught Ron some level of self-control, because Ron only turned red but, thankfully, remained silent.

"You can't take people against their will, Father. Voldemort is gone, the laws won't favor you anymore. Contract or not, she can't be forced to stay with you if she doesn't want to."

Ginny was now appearing close to panic, looking anxiously between Alex and the two men who now had him. Lucius placed a hand on her arm, as if in comfort, silently commanding her to not rush toward her child.

He still had made no move for his wand, giving Draco some confidence that he didn't desire to do anything that might harm the toddler.

"You are making a fool of yourself, Draco. You have no business here with your petty jealousy of my future heir," he said, pointing to the child now clinging to Draco in confusion. "Neither of them are here against their will and Ginevra will happily testify to that fact in court, if need be."

"Ron," Draco said calmly, his gaze remaining solidly fixed on his father.

"What?" the other returned, keeping his wand and his focus trained on Lucius.

"Take Alex downstairs to see his Uncle Harry," he said.

Ron blinked in disbelief, because Draco's words were highly out of the ordinary. Draco would never normally refer to Harry with such an endearment. It only emphasized the seriousness of the moment.

"You need me here," Ron responded.

"No. I don't want Alex to be a witness to what might happen, and I don't want him to get hurt."

Ron lowered his wand, although Draco remained on guard, wand in his forward hand, child in the other, protected by his body. His words had been chosen deliberately to let Lucius know that others were in the house, hopefully gaining him some small amount of safety. He hoped that Lucius would not likely attempt something dangerous with a team of Aurors within shouting distance.

Lucius stared coldly at Ron as he took the little boy from Draco's arms. "He will be returned to me. You have no right to the child."

"He doesn't belong with you. Neither does Ginny," Draco responded.

"My wife and my son do not belong with me?" He laughed.

"Alex is my son, Father."

Ginny cowered behind Lucius, looking stricken, shaking her head as if she didn't believe what she was hearing. Ron was beginning to back away from the door and had stopped mid-step to look at Lucius's expression at the words. Doubt flickered over the older man's face as he looked between his son and the toddler.

Draco spared a glance at the pair, giving Ron a meaningful look that told him to do as he'd been asked and take Alex away from the area. In that moment, he knew that Lucius had recognized the proof that Alex was indeed his grandson.

The boy looked much like Draco did at the same age, but that resemblance could have come from either man. As the toddler stared back at him, Lucius was able to see Alex's startlingly blue eyes. Eyes that, on a casual glance, might be associated with coming from the Weasley side of the family, but seeing the child in the arms of his Weasley uncle, it was apparent that Lucius realized that the boy's eyes matched the exact shape and shade of the eyes of Narcissa Malfoy, his grandmother.

Lucius's gaze turned back to his son, his eyes flashing in anger.

He ignored the older' man's expression and glanced to verify that Ron had safely disappeared down the hallway, leaving Draco to confront his father alone.

"What did you do to Ginny? Did you give her the potion?"

Once again, Lucius's mood changed with startling alacrity. His anger disappeared and was immediately replaced with a smug smile. "I only allowed her to release her reservations about me. We will be happy together, as a family. As it should be."

Draco felt the bile rise in his throat. Ginny had been gone for over almost two days and there was no telling how long she'd been under the influence of the potion. "You can't do this, Father," he said, emphasizing the paternal title. "She's not Mother. She was never meant for you."

"Do not dare tell me what is or is not mine!"

"You gave her the potion, didn't you," he continued accusingly. "She didn't want to be with you and you had to drug her so she would want to stay."

Ginny only looked back and forth between the two men, obviously confused.

"She is happy with me. We will begin again. I will Obliviate all memory of you and I will have the perfect family."

"You'll go to Azkaban."

"She is not Imperioused and they will verify that. They will only hear her testimony that she wishes to remain with me. Come now, Draco. Do you really think that I would be so foolish?"

Draco turned to frightened woman, trying to quell the panic that was overtaking him. He wanted to bring his Ginny back, and in one last desperate attempt, he spoke to her, hoping that his voice might draw out the woman that he'd loved. "Tell me you remember me, Ginny. Tell me that you remember everything about the last two years and I'll go away."

She shook her head firmly. "No..." she responded, but her voice wavered with uncertainty.

She wasn't his Ginny. Ginny would have reacted with anger, or stubborness, or ... something. This girl was meek. She kept looking to Lucius to tell her how she should react. She was what Lucius wanted her to be.

Lucius stood by her side, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "She doesn't have to tell you anything."

Draco shoved aside his fear about Ginny and his anger toward his father. He had Alex to worry about and, while Ginny's reaction was tearing his heart out, he needed to remain calm. He could deal with her later. At the moment, his father was the imminent threat.

Lucius had spoken of having the perfect family and the words tore at Draco's heart. As he remembered his mother, he felt a surge of emotion. He missed his mother desperately and knew that her love for Lucius would have given her the power to persuade him to be reasonable.

He felt a heavy sorrow descend on his chest. He missed his mother desperately, and now Lucius may have permanently taken Ginny from them as well. In a way, Draco understood that he'd lost. But he'd made a promise to Ginny a long time ago that he wouldn't leave her with Lucius.

Drawing a deep breath, he spoke calmly, almost gently. "Mother is gone, Father. She wouldn't have wanted this. She would have wanted us to continue together, to honor her memory. It's not your fault that Voldemort killed her."

"Do not speak of her!" Lucius's voice thundered throughout the room.

"I will speak of her!" Draco insisted, his voice cracking with emotion. "She was my mother and your wife. You loved her and I can't allow you to forget that!"

The older man's normally controlled features were now red with fury.

Draco continued, still calm, still insistent. "She loved us, Father. We were the perfect family. You know Mother was right all along to try to keep us away from the Dark ways. You know she didn't betray you. She loved you, Father. You can't recreate that with someone else by using a potion. How would Mother feel about that?"

"She betrayed me. She betrayed the Dark Lord and taught you to do the same," Lucius replied with a growl, yet, there was a momentary flicker in the older man's eyes that gave Draco hope.

"The Dark Lord was a madman, Father," Draco continued, keeping his tone calm despite his desperate feelings, hoping to reach something deep in the mind of the man he'd once loved. "We were happy until he came back. Don't betray Mother's memory like this. You know you will never replace what we were as a family."

He could see the wheels of thought churning in his father's eyes, trying to justify his actions, trying to refuse reconcile the defeat he'd suffered when Voldemort had ripped the Malfoy family apart by murdering Narcissa.

One way or another, Draco knew that his words were going to cause this to be finished. If the man continued to refuse to listen to reason, the only way to free Ginny would be by force and, hopefully, he or Snape could work to reverse the effects of the potion that had been used on her.

His heard sank with disappointment and dread when he saw his father's eyes narrow with fury as the madness once again replaced the momentary lapse of reason.

Lucius drew his wand with the speed of a cobra strike, throwing a curse at Draco that was only barely deflected. Ginny, still standing by the older man's side, gasped in fear, her hand reaching to her chest in a dainty, aristocratic way. Her reaction was so weak and out of character that it made Draco cringe. He had to almost force himself to look away to focus on his father's attack. Two more curses quickly followed the first, causing Draco to remain defensive, but the younger man refused to strike back, fearful that Ginny might be hurt by accident. Instead, he maneuvered around the room, forcing Lucius to move to counter.

He finally managed to fling a spell or two, although they were mostly harmless, intended only to keep Lucius distracted. A minor stinging hex finally hit Lucius, causing him to cringe in pain and he snarled in fury. The hex had been so simple and minor that he'd been unprepared for it, Ginny shrieked and clung to the older man in that moment, looking concerned.

"Get away from me, witch!" he shouted, shoving her away from him roughly. Draco caught a look of hurt and confusion on her face as she stumbled backwards, then fell, crashing into a small table before tumbling to the floor.

"Ginny!" Draco shouted, without forethought, as the table splintered with the force of her fall. She let out a gasp of pain, and, as she began to slowly pick herself up off the floor, Draco pushed her from his thoughts. She was relatively unharmed and the duel required his full attention.

Draco had lived this battle in his mind for far too long. He'd spent months thinking about it, mentally planning his moves and counter moves during the lonely nights away from his family. He knew his father, he'd seen him duel many times and had come prepared with a strategy to ultimately defeat him. With Ginny out of the way, he wasted no time completing his attack.

Lucius started with a slashing curse, which Draco had been fully prepared for, deflecting it easily, and he heard, rather than saw the wall behind him rip apart with the force of it. A surreal calm enveloped him as he danced to the side firing a stunning spell, followed by a compression wave. Lucius deflected the first, but the second rocked the floor beneath him, forcing him off balance.

Draco expected his father's counter, which came in the form of fiery cinders that poured over him like rain. It was a broad attack, intended to force Draco toward a corner in the room that would limit his ability to maneuver. Instead of moving in the anticipated direction, however, Draco moved toward his father, dancing toward his right and avoiding the sparks, casting a screen of smoke to distract his father's attention for a split-second.

In an instant, Draco saw that his father was turned slightly to the left, expecting Draco to appear on the other side of the smoke cloud, in the area his father had been trying to force him into. The slight turn away from Draco left Lucius's left side unguarded, and Draco took that moment to fire another concussion spell, which smacked Lucius solidly in the ribs, cracking them with a sickeningly loud snap.

Lucius gasped in pain, dropping to his knees and turning toward his son, his wand once again taking deadly aim. "Crucio..." Lucius uttered with a hateful sneer.

Once again, Draco jumped gracefully toward his right, forcing his father to turn even further counter-clockwise, his motion pressing painfully on his injured left side, the curse just missing its intended target.

"Expelliarmus!" Draco shouted, and watched his father's wand fly out of his hand, the force of the spell throwing the older man to the floor. Lucius's face twisted in agony when he struck the ground, the force of his landing crushing the injured ribs further.

While it seemed like an eternity, the duel had lasted no more than a few minutes, probably less than that. Even injured, Lucius seemed to be still trying to battle, never giving up, never admitting defeat. At that moment, Draco felt disgust. He stood over his injured father, the sneer that had been known for in his youth now, once again, gracing his handsome features as he looked down at the man he'd once loved and admired. He took a deep breath. He was no murderer. He never had been, but this was different. Alex was no longer safe and Ginny might already be lost to them. This would not end unless he finished it. He pointed his wand at his father and prepared to utter the words that would likely cause him to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban. "Avada ..."

"Draco, no!"

He paused, the pleading voice interrupting him from his murderous thoughts. It was dangerous to take his attention off his father, but he couldn't help himself. Ginny was stumbling toward him, holding her wrist from her recent fall. She was acknowledging him by name for the first time since he'd entered the room and it surprised him.

What didn't surprise him was that, instead of going to him, she threw herself on top of Lucius to protect him from the deadly spell that Draco was about to cast. The pain in Draco's heart strengthened his resolve.

"Get away from him, Ginny."

But, she wasn't looking at Lucius. Her eyes were focused solely on him. She was pleading, and he knew it was for Lucius's life. Whether she was lost to him or not, he found it nearly impossible to deny her request.

"He's not worth it, Draco. Please. I couldn't bear to see what it would do to you if you killed him."

He blinked as he tried to comprehend that she was worried for him, not his father.

The delay had been enough to end his plan, regardless of her intentions. Sounds of Aurors rushing into the room told him that he wouldn't be allowed to finish this. He stared down at his father in disgust.

They surrounded him and somewhere he heard congratulations, probably from Potter. He couldn't tell. The details of the world around him faded as he continued to stare into the warm eyes of the woman he loved, the woman who he'd lived with as his wife for almost two years.

She smiled at him and he felt his heart nearly shatter.

Then, she walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He stood there stiffly for a moment, unsure of how to react after seeing her behave so oddly only a few minutes earlier. He looked into her warm eyes, searching for the Ginny he knew. Sensing his hesitation, she bit her lip, and that was when he knew that his Ginny was before him again. He wrapped his arms around her in return, before she could pull away.

"You remember me?"

She nodded, burying her face into his chest, obviously in some amount of shame. He pulled her closer, and felt her begin to sob against him. His own energy was spent, and he could do little but hold and try to comfort her.

"Is Alex all right?" she asked, without lifting her head.

He wrapped his arms more tightly around her, resting his cheek against the top of her head. "Ronald has him. I'm certain that he's fine."

She nodded, then gave a small sniff, still clutching him tightly. "When I fell..." she drew a shaky breath. "I was angry that he'd pushed me aside, and then I heard you call my name," she said, lifting her head to look at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"You didn't remember me before that?"

"No. I remember what I did, but it was as if it wasn't really me."

He allowed the tears to come to his eyes. They'd been apart for too long, and the physical comfort of being in each other's embrace was overwhelming. They were together again, finally.

"It doesn't matter now. It's over," he told her softly, tilting her chin up to give her a gentle kiss. He pulled away, looking into her warm eyes for several seconds before he remembered where they were. Looking up and around the room, he turned them both toward the door. "Let's get out of here. It's time to go home."

Feeling her nod as she curled into his embrace was the best feeling he'd had in three very long months.


	31. Chapter 31 In Conclusion?

"… Then, I remember that I was angry at him for pushing me into the table. I heard Draco call to me, then the jolt of pain in my arm when I hit the floor, and then everything came back," she finally concluded.

Severus Snape sat back in his chair, looking pensive after hearing her story and Ginny watched him as he rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, tenting his fingers as he pondered her words. She had spent the past two hours recounting everything she could remember about her experience with the potion so that he might be able to learn more about the its effects.

Although he had been aware of the potion and its use, Snape had not assisted Lucius and Rodolphus in its development, so his knowledge of the formula was limited. Still, there were hopes that any information that he could deduce would possibly help them to develop a remedy, or perhaps even some beneficial uses for the drug.

He leaned forward after he finished considering the information. "It appears that you were quite fortunate, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Please don't call me that, Professor," she replied, still using his former title, which was also incorrect, but he ignored it.

"Of course, but you are no longer Miss Weasley, either," he stated rather flatly.

She doubted she would ever manage to get Snape to simply call her by her first name and, despite the seriousness of their conversation, she found herself amused. Snape, it seemed, would never change. His extreme sense of formality and propriety had defined him for as long as she'd known the man, and she rather appreciated that.

"Call me Mrs. Hanson, if you will. I will be living by that name again in the very near future, I expect."

Snape frowned, apparently disagreeing with her choice to return to a Muggle life, now that Lucius was going to prison. Yet, he was professional enough to not pry further. He returned to his notes, going back to the puzzle of the potion, and how she'd escaped its devastating effects.

"It appears that you've lost only the memories of when you suppressed your own personality. I assume that those were the worst times during your confinement."

She nodded. "Yes, I suppose. Before I became adept at Occlumency, there were a number of things that were … uncomfortable." She paused, as the bitter memories of the early days of her marriage resurfaced. "But, after that, I recall things like walking into a room at a dinner party, seeing a number of Death Eaters, and then my memory goes blank." She avoided telling Snape about the number of memories she had of walking into her own bedroom with Lucius, only to have her mind go blank, and hoped that such information wouldn't need to be recounted.

Snape merely nodded, his demeanor remaining professional and analytical, which made her testimony of the entire nightmare much easier to recount. He seemed almost aloof as he replied, "Draco and I have been working on an antidote for the potion, but without full knowledge of the original and, of course, a lack of test subjects, it is unlikely that we will find much success."

"I know they tested on a number of Muggles, but I think Lucius destroyed the notes right after Voldemort was killed to hide his involvement with it."

Snape nodded in agreement, making another note on his parchment. "Still, the information we've gained may help me in my research."

He paused, apparently absorbed in writing notes, and she hoped that he was ready to dismiss her. Even after years of being out of school, she still felt like a wayward student in his presence, and was eager for the meeting to conclude. She didn't know how Draco had managed to work with him on a daily basis.

He was looking at his notes, then said, almost to himself, "It would seem that your skill in Occlumency may have saved you. When they developed the potion, they failed to consider the fact that you might be able to shield a portion of your mind from its effects. Had they had more time to experiment with it, they might have been able to overcome this flaw."

Then, he looked at her with a hint of admiration, which surprised her. "It would seem that they underestimated you, Ginevra."

He had called her by her first name, for the very first time. She wondered if it was his way of implying his respect. She hoped that she wouldn't say something that would change his opinion. Somehow, it meant a great deal to her.

"Then I suppose I'll never regain those memories," she stated.

"No," he stated flatly. "From what we've determined, the memories are truly erased, as if one had removed them to place in a pensieve."

She breathed a nervous sigh. If she hadn't acted when she did, by fearfully hiding her personality away as Lucius forced the potion down her throat, she would no longer exist. It was a horrifying thought.

Yet, she did remember her actions after taking the potion. During that time, she had been content, even happy with Lucius. If she'd failed to protect her own personality in the way she had, she would have lived her life with Lucius, completely unaware of her loss. She shuddered.

"Don't worry, Professor. I don't think that they are memories I'd want anyway."

The somber man nodded in agreement. "There was obviously motivation for you to become so skilled at the art ..."

He appeared to be ready to say more, but a voice broke in, interrupting the conversation. "Have you found anything significant, Severus?"

They both turned to see Draco standing in the doorway of Snape's office. The younger man had taken Alex earlier so that Ginny could spend time with the Potions Master and she was profoundly grateful that he'd returned and interrupted the conversation. She had no desire to delve more deeply into the exact types of memories that she'd apparently lost. She remembered enough to know what they likely involved.

Snape, again the professional, seemed equally glad for the interruption. "There may be some applications, if I can reduce the potency." Snape replied, his tone thoughtful. "I'm afraid though, that it would be difficult to research, considering the possible harmful effects."

Draco walked over and stood behind Ginny, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Immediately, she felt her body relax due to his presence. "The memories are gone?" he asked her.

She nodded. "Completely. I can't say that I'm sorry. "

x

The trial itself was a relatively quiet event. Although Lucius Malfoy was a prominent figure, the information leaked out about his arrest and subsequent trial was kept to a minimum. Both Harry Potter's influence and Lucius Malfoy's immense fortune played a part in giving the press only the most mundane of information.

In the end, the papers merely stated that he was convicted of a minor infraction with Dark Magic, and illegally experimenting with dangerous potions. No mention of the victim was made.

Draco watched his father being led from the courtroom and felt Ginny move closer to him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders to comfort her, and felt her turn into his embrace, but his eyes never left his father. Finally, as he reached the door, Lucius Malfoy, ever the dominant figure, turned to look back at his son. Even from a distance, the older man managed to look down his nose, the haughty expression never indicating any sign of defeat.

Then, Lucius's expression changed, the corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly, and he gave his son a subtle nod, as if acknowledging a game that had been well-played.

After his father had disappeared out the door, Draco turned to the witch at his side. She looked up at him sadly. "They only sentenced him to five years," she stated glumly. "Five years for nearly destroying me."

Draco tried to give her an encouraging smile. "Yes, but the contract is dissolved. He has no claim on you anymore, and he won't be allowed to go near you or Alex."

She nodded, giving a deep sigh of resignation.

He touched his hand gently under her chin, guiding her to look back up at him. "It's good enough."

She smiled weakly in return. "It is," she agreed. "It just feels so surreal."

He brightened, giving her a light squeeze. "He's out of our lives, and I intend to move on. We'll worry about the rest in five years."

She lifted her chin and stood taller, drawing her shoulders back in a show of quiet strength. She would endure, just as she'd endured everything since she'd signed the contract. He admired her resilience.

He pulled her toward him again, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, breathing his own sigh of relief. Then, he spoke the words that he'd wanted to say for the past three months, "Let's go home."

- x – X – x -

A/N - BTW - I've spent nearly four years working on this story. Please take a few moments to let me know what you think of it!

I


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